Chapter 19
I saw it again that night, just as clearly as before.
The bridge, every detail sharp.
Her foot on a weakened slat.
Step.
Wobble.
Crack.
Livia, tumbling into the chasm.
I shot upright once more, trembling violently. It was the middle of the night. What I’d seen played out repeatedly in front of my eyes. And I heard Livia’s scream, over and over again.
It still could have just been a nightmare—the product of my overactive imagination and the stress of this journey. But I knew, in my heart, that it wasn’t.
The bridge in my dream hadn’t only looked like the bridge we’d crossed—it had been the very same one. There was no mistaking it now, not after seeing it again tonight. And that meant . . .
The immediate danger suddenly registered in my mind, and I leapt to my feet. “ROLEN!” Next thing I knew, I was shaking him awake. “Rolen! It’s Livia! She’s in danger!”
“Huh?” Rolen opened his eyes, squinting at me. “What do you mean? Where is she?”
“I—I saw—I had a . . .” I trailed off, just now realizing what this could mean.
When I spoke again, it was in a quieter voice, one that quivered slightly, betraying everything I felt: joy, shock, disbelief, amazement. My whole life, I’d hoped, but I’d never thought I might actually say these words.
“I think I had a vision.”
A vision. Like Grandfather. My heart swelled. I’d always longed to be a seer like him, to help and serve everyone in Solara. I couldn’t wait to tell him—he would be so proud.
“A . . . vision?” His brow furrowed and he sat up, pushing off his blanket.
“Yes.” I was certain of it now. “I saw it first on the night of the storm, and I saw it again tonight. She was on the bridge we crossed today. But the slats were loose, and . . .”
I couldn’t look him in the eye. “And she fell,” I finished weakly.
Rolen was silent for a long moment. Finally, he spoke, shaking his head. “Sera, it’s obviously really upset you, but I’m sure it was just a nightmare. You saw me almost fall off the edge of the mountain yesterday—that probably just carried over into your dreams.”
No, no, no. He was missing the point. I’d seen it for the first time days ago, before he almost fell off the mountain. “Please, Rolen. Trust me. I’ve had plenty of nightmares before, and I’m telling you that’s not what this was.”
“Sera, I do trust you. I trust you more than I trust almost anyone else. But you’ve never had a vision before. And even your grandfather’s visions haven’t come true in a long time. Why would you suddenly start to get visions, and why now?”
“Because—” I started, but he sighed and cut me off.
“Please,” he said, his words imploring. “We both need some sleep. We can’t just go running back to the bridge to find Livia in the middle of the night. I’m sure she’s not really in danger.”
Rolen lay back down, closing his eyes and pulling the blanket over his head. I stood up, frustration coursing through me. Didn’t he care about Livia? She was going to die if we didn’t do something!
And if Rolen wouldn’t help, it was up to me to prevent tragedy. I pulled on my boots and slipped out of camp, then hurried back down the steep mountain trail with only moonlight to guide me.
And if Rolen wouldn’t help, it was up to me to prevent tragedy. I pulled on my boots and slipped out of camp, then started back down the steep mountain trail with only moonlight to guide me.
I walked slowly, keeping as far from the edge as I could, my eyes flickering every few seconds to the darkness far below, as if pulled toward the danger by some magnetic force beyond my control. Soon, as the trail narrowed, my wariness became fear. I’d hardly ever been out alone at night before, and certainly not in the wilderness. With no lantern, no candle, nothing, I felt vulnerable and helpless.
But I had to do this. Taking deep, steadying breaths to calm me, I focused on the path ahead and tread carefully. I would be okay.
Everything looked different at night, shadows seeming to flutter across the ground like a million tiny butterfly wings, the stars above shining more brightly than I’d ever seen them. It would have been beautiful if I hadn’t been so scared and if the mountain hadn’t been so eerily silent. There was a chill in the air, and goosebumps rose on my arms, even under my sleeves, with every whisper of wind.
Suddenly my foot hit a large rock in the trail, and I stumbled. I cried out as I fell to my knees, catching myself with my hands, scraping them on the gravelly path. With a grunt, I slowly stood and dusted myself off, wincing at every movement of my stinging palms.
It was then I saw that I had landed less than a foot from the edge of the mountain. Terror surged through me and I scrambled away from the edge as I realized I could have easily fallen into the valley below.
Trying to calm my pounding heart, I continued on.
A crunch of leaves to my left reached my ears, and I stopped in my tracks, hands clenching at my sides. As a small deer stepped out of a stand of trees, the moonlight reflected in its shining dark eyes. When it saw me, it turned and bounded back into the trees.
Not a bear. Of course it wasn’t a bear. I didn’t even know if there were bears up here.
Livia would know, probably. And I was here in the middle of the night on this scary mountain to help her, so I couldn’t turn back now.
I slowed my pace as I neared the bridge. Suddenly, a flash of movement in the shadows on the opposite side of the chasm caught my eye, and I froze mid-step. For a moment I wondered if it was Livia, until the figure stepped into the open and I recognized . . .
Edrik.
I ducked behind a tree before he noticed me. What was Edrik doing here, away from his sister?
I had a horrible feeling I knew the answer.
Edrik stood in front of the bridge, arms crossed, considering. After a moment, he stepped over to one of the wooden support posts and inspected the ropes wrapped around it. I squinted to see exactly what he was doing, but before I had the chance, he stepped out onto the bridge.
He slowly started across, poking at things with his boot and fiddling with the rope railing. Finally, he stopped near the center of the bridge, and it swayed as he knelt down.
Edrik tugged at the slat in front of him, then reached into his left boot and withdrew a small object I couldn’t make out. He used it to saw at something on one side of the slat, then repeated the motion on the other side. Then he crawled backward and did the same with the slat he’d been kneeling on, and I realized with a surge of fear that he was cutting the ropes that held them in place.
A few minutes later, he jumped to his feet and headed back the way he’d come, leaving me stunned and motionless, staring at the bridge. Edrik had sabotaged it, and as soon as Livia stepped on those slats, they would fall, and she would fall, and my horrible vision would come true.
What could I do? Was there a way to fix the bridge? I had to try, anyway. I started toward it, but stopped short at the edge of the chasm. What if the bridge collapsed beneath me? I’d crossed it safely yesterday, but the whole thing could be unstable now after Edrik cut some of the ropes. I could easily imagine falling into the darkness like Livia in my vision, never to be seen or heard from again.
I took several deep breaths, then stepped forward. I had to do this, or Livia would die.
The bridge swayed beneath me, and even though that was expected of a rickety rope bridge, it made me freeze. After a moment, I continued on, gripping the rope railing in a stranglehold, each step slow and hesitant.
As I neared the place Edrik had been tampering, I slowed my pace to a crawl, pressing every slat with my boot before stepping onto it. In the silence of the night, I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Finally, a slat wobbled when I felt it with my boot. I took a step back and knelt down to assess what could be done.
Not much. Edrik had sawed through the ropes supporting five of the slats—each was only held up by a thread, and they would certainly fall if anyone stepped on them. I couldn’t retie the tattered ends and I didn’t have any extra rope. Now what?
I prodded the first slat with my finger to see just how loose it was, and immediately regretted it. As I watched in horror, the slat wobbled for a moment before slipping from its precarious position and tumbling into the chasm.
Pretty loose, I guess.
This was bad. This was really bad.
I buried my head in my hands, furious at my own careless act. Now a slat short, how could I possibly fix the bridge? Livia would die, and it would be all my fault.
Well, not all my fault. Mostly Edrik’s, actually. But still, I’d just made everything worse. Why had I ever thought I could help? I should have just stayed at camp . . .
Wait.
An idea was slowly taking shape in my mind. Maybe I didn’t have to fix the bridge after all.
It might not work . . .
No. It would.
Hope flickering inside me, I reached for the next slat, held it over the chasm, and let it go. I repeated the process with the others, stretching over the growing gap in the bridge, and each disappeared into the darkness below.
I stood up to admire my work. Now anyone could see that they needed to jump over that part. I had eliminated the hidden danger.
And, as I thought about it, I realized Edrik would never suspect that his sabotage had been sabotaged. The slats appeared to have simply fallen into the chasm. Perhaps an animal had crossed and knocked them down.
I headed back to camp, secure in the knowledge that my plan had succeeded and Livia was safe. For now.