Page 25 of The Arcane God

Turner felt a wave of hopelessness rise up in him so profoundly he could barely stand it.

“FUCK!” he screamed into the depths of the canyon, his voice echoing through it. “Ty, where are you?!” he screamed again, his voice breaking with the forceful strain of his grief.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he loathed the next thought that came to his head. He wanted to reject it, push it away and rage. It was so abhorrent to him, he could barely even think it, but it came to him all the same.

Ty was gone.

There was nowhere else to search. They could double back to where they’d crossed—and they would. Absolutely. There could have been something, some sign of him they’d missed. They’d do that.

But if they still didn’t find him…what would they do then?

***

Turner made his way back the way he’d come, moving automatically—one step after another. He was vaguely aware of the fact that he was exhausted, but the ache in his muscles felt like nothing compared to the ache in his chest—the devastation he felt at what he had to tell Ena.

Eventually, he came to the waterfall, and the spot he’d left the rope harness. Part of him almost didn’t want to go up—to face what came next—but he had no choice. She was his friend, and she needed him. They needed each other now.

“Ena!” he called to her, hoping she was still up there, despite the extra time it had taken him. “Ena, are you there?!”

“Turner! Oh, thank Gaia. Are you okay?” she called after a minute, coming to the edge so he could see her head peeking down.

“Pull me up,” was all he said. He didn’t know how to say anything else yet.

Ena went back to the tree, and he felt the rope go tight again. She’d attached one of the ropes to his horse, as they’d discussed, to help her with the extra weight, and he found what toe and hand holds he could as they pulled him back up. He found himself looking down as he got higher and higher up, hoping that the rope wouldn’t suddenly snap, but he couldn’t truly feel afraid right now. He couldn’t feel anything but grief.

Once he crested the top, he grasped the rocky ledge, pulling himself the rest of the way up, and collapsing on the snow-covered ground. He felt, rather than saw, Ena lower herself to her knees beside him.

“Did you find him? Was he there?” she asked, her voice choked with tears.

Turner looked up at her then, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. Then he shook his head. “I’m so sorry Ena. I’m so, so sorry. I found no sign of him.”

Ena just stared at him. She didn’t cry, she didn’t scream. She didn’t move. She didn’t say anything.

“Ena?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes were unreadable, and she appeared frozen in place. “We’ll go back again. We’ll look over everywhere we’ve already looked. We must have missed a sign of him. We’ll…we’ll go back the way we came,” she said, repeating herself, as she stood up unsteadily and went to her horse.

“Ena, slow down,” Turner said, going after her. “Take a breath, a break. Have you eaten anything? I need to eat something, and so should you.”

“I don’t need to eat anything, Turner,” she spat at him venomously. “I need to keep searching. There’s still another thirty minutes or so of daylight. Let’s go.”

Turner didn’t push. He didn’t know what to do himself, so he untied the rope around him, and grabbed an apple from his pack as they remounted and went back the way they’d come.

They kept riding way past dark, until the horses began to stumble on roots from exhaustion, and then Ena finally agreed to stop.

Turner watched as she sat on a downed log in front of the fire he’d built, staring vacantly at it, as he curled up on the ground next to her. He was so exhausted that he drifted off to sleep, only to awake an hour or so before dawn with a jolt.

And Ena was still there, watching the fire, as if she hadn’t moved a muscle all night.

“E-Ena?” Turner asked, though what he was asking, he wasn’t quite sure.

She looked at him, and he could see in the light from the glowing coals of the fire that there were deep circles under her eyes, and her skin was even paler than normal.

“You’re awake,” she said simply, her voice hoarse. “Let’s get going then.”

She stood up slowly, wobbling on her feet, and Turner jumped up to catch her.

“Whoa, whoa, take it easy, Ena. Hey,” he said. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but he was scared for her. What was wrong with her? How could he help her?