Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Valmir is quiet for a long moment. "I don't know what that's like."
I pause, shocked. I've assumed something so basic about him for the last few weeks — that he'd know how to act in a group. That he'd know what it's like to be part of a big unit, a family, a team. "Weren't you and the other gladiators taught to be teammates? To work together?"
His tone turns defensive and he won't look at me. "Maybe some are, but I have no memories of that."
This is so surprising to me…and yet it's not the first time he's grudgingly confessed that he's missing information. "What do you have memories of?"
"If I'm being honest, not much." Valmir's trying to be lighthearted, but I suspect there's a deeper pain there. This is something that has come up before, and I suspect it really bothers him.
It makes me wonder. Is he such a loner and so hard to get along with because he just doesn't know how? Or am I reading too much into things? "I get flooded with memories of home every now and then. Words I know that the translator doesn't, customs no one else knows but me. Instead of comforting me, it makes me...lonely."
"I'm sorry."
I bite my lip. "It just makes me desperate to remember who I was. Sometimes I wish I didn't have any of that. It might be easier to have nothing. To be a blank slate, like Vivi or Natalie."
"It isn't." He pauses on the next rocky outcrop and holds a hand out for me to take.
I ignore it, because I don't need help, and anchor my fingers on a particularly gnarly bit of rock. "No?"
"No," he repeats. As I haul myself up, his hand brushes against the small of my back, as if he can't help himself with wanting to assist. I pull my weight over the ledge and adjust Makana again, then turn to look down at Valmir as I sit on the edge of the ledge. He studies my face. "Being a blank slate is terrible. You always wonder what you don't have, or if there's some basic information you're missing somehow. It feels like being left out of the joke, always."
It's a surprisingly vulnerable confession from him. "Is that really how you feel?"
His eyes narrow, and his expression turns defensive again. With one agile movement, he climbs up to where I'm at. "Nah."
The soft moment between us is gone. I get to my feet, noticing that his tail is flicking wildly, betraying his otherwise impassive demeanor.
We don't speak again for a while. The trail (such as it is) winds through the cliffs and eventually evens out into what seems like a delightful little valley. There are bushes all along the edges of the cliffs and a trickle of water coming from a rocky escarpment that might have been a waterfall if it wasn't freezing up as soon as it hits the air. The ground is shiny and lacquered, the snow gleaming in the sunlight so brightly that it hurts my eyes. It's not uncommon for the snow to get crispy on the surface overnight after melting in the daytime. It just means this valley gets some warmth.
"This looks like a good spot," I say to Valmir. "We've got food and water, and it's protected from the wind."
"Here?" he echoes, and I nod, a knot in my throat. Here is as good a place as any.
We walk forward, side by side. I take a few wondering paces into the cute little valley. This will be a great place for Makana. It's quiet and picturesque. If I were a two-fang, this would be where I'd want to live for sure. "Let's take him to the bushes on the far side."
I take a step into the sunlight...
...and my foot skids forward.
"Oh, it's icy," I say, even as I take another step forward. "Watch your step."
"I'll be fine," he says, and wobbles, skidding past me.
I take a few more slippery steps forward, and it's like an ice rink, the snow here. It's not just crusted over; it's a great big sheet of ice. There's no grip with my leather soles, and I slide with every step. I try to change my movements, acting like I'm skating, but with an ice skate, there's a bit of control at least. I take another step forward and slowly spin around in a circle. A few feet away, Valmir flails, overcorrects, and barely manages to keep upright.
My next step is a bad one and I lose my footing entirely. I slide to the ground, legs in an awkward split, a protective arm around Makana. I try to get up and just fall on my ass. I try again and get the same results. I'm like a fawn with no control over its legs, flailing on the ground. "I need a moment," I tell Valmir. "Just give me a few."