The wind whipped around Ember’s face, tugging her hair from its braid. “What in god’s name…” Morgan muttered, holding onto Ember’s arm as she leaned over the edge. “He really means to kill us this time.”
Ember took a shallow breath, her eyes watering with the stinging cold. Ahead was a cliff, its incline cleaved from the earth as if by a giant’s axe. A waterfall, fed by a tributary of the Lion’s Tail River, roared over the edge, spraying droplets onto the rockface. The ancient forest stretched infinitely beyond, dense and untouched even by Linnaean influence, the gargantuan trees disappearing over the horizon like soldiers marching to battle.
“He’s taken us to the edge of the world,” Ember said, turning back to look at the rest of the students. Like Morgan, they were huddled together with looks of skepticism. The animals that had borne them throughout the hour’s journey lay under the trees, staying a healthy distance from the edge.
Hickory gestured for them to gather around. He, too, was bundled in a thick coat, with only his bulbous head emerging from the fur hood. “Take heart,” he said, clapping his hands together. “For the majority of you, this is your last exam of the semester. For better or for worse-” croak “-it will be over by sunset.”
The students glanced at each other, completely unmoved by his assurances. “Tell us why we’re here, professor!” someone insisted.
“Yes, yes,” he replied, waving her away. “What you are about to experience is a rite of passage for young Linneans. We are at the Blackwater Caves-” croak “-the last barrier between Mendel and the true wild. Other than researchers and recluses, few Linnaeans have journeyed past this point.”
Ember listened closely, reminded of Corax’s map. “It is vital that we maintain some infrastructure in this area,” Hickory continued, “for if Mendel was taken, this would serve as a means of escape for many Linneans.” He gestured to the edge of the cliff, where ropes, pulleys, and harnesses had been fastened to the rock. “In addition to this, the caves are also home to many members of our resident bear population-” croak “-who will soon be beginning their hibernation.”
Ember ran a hand down her face, unsurprised. Only Hickory would devise an exam involving bears. The beasts were phantoms of her childhood, seen only at a distance when they robbed the pasture, their silhouettes framed by the setting sun as they ripped the head from a screaming family goat.
“Your task is simple,” he said. “Each pair of you will enter a cave and note if a bear has claimed it this season. If it is a female, you must count the number of cubs. You will see that many of the caves have been reinforced with supports: please verify that these are not cracked, bent, or otherwise compromised.”
A female student raised her hand dubiously. “But, Professor, what about the bears?”
“What about them?”
“Well… are they friendly?”
Hickory let out a guffaw. “They’re not inherently hostile to Linnaeans. But this time of year, they’re unusually grumpy. That said, there will be no tolerance for harming the bears, and please avoid disturbing them if they are already asleep.”
The students looked at him incredulously. “Professor, this is an impossible task,” someone interjected. “We could die if we become trapped in a cave with an angry bear.”
“Yet every year, students succeed,” the professor pointed out. “I’ll give you one hint. During our lesson on dangerous animals, we studied naturally occurring tranquilizers and hallucinogens. The humidity is high in the area, making it ideal for many of them to grow.”
The student looked away, and Ember surmised that he remembered little of the lesson. It had been a particularly difficult one, as many of the fungi and plants that had sedative properties looked identical to their toxic counterparts.
“Enough of this,” Hickory said, clapping his hands together. “I know that this is challenging-” croak “-but I will not be known as an unfair professor. For a point deduction, I will help guide you, and those who did well on the earlier practicals may be able to pass even without completing this task. I’ve also brought a container of equipment for your use,” he finished, pointing to a box resting near his horse. “Now, go,” he ribbited indignantly, and the grumbling class began to break into pairs.
Morgan took Ember by the arm, pulling her out of earshot. “I’m assuming you want to do this anyway?”
“Of course,” she said. “We didn’t work this hard just to scrape by with a passing grade. We’ll take the top score on this challenge as well.”
Morgan smiled, shaking her head slightly. “Then you have a plan?”
“We should find the tranquilizer first. Then, you can lower me into one of the caves with the rope system. I’ll set fire to the plant and let the smoke fill the cavern so that if there is a bear, we ensure that it is sleeping deeply. Only then will I enter and take the samples.”
“I want to help,” Morgan frowned. “I’m tired of resting on your laurels.”
“You can support me from above,” Ember said. “It doesn’t make sense for you to enter the caves when you don’t have infrared vision, and it’s not safe to bring a torch. None of it matters, though, if we can’t find the right plant.”
“Amanita muscaria,” Morgan said. “It’s a fungus that grows best in the winter months and serves as a potent hallucinogen.”
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Ember looked at her with surprise, and she shrugged. “You’re not the only one who studies around here.”
Ember chuckled. “Fair enough. How about we split up and meet back here in an hour?”
Morgan nodded, and the two separated into the dense forest. Ember walked briskly along the stream, crossing her arms over her chest in an effort to protect herself from the frigid mist. She passed a number of confused-looking classmates, tilting her head in greeting but giving no indication of her strategy.
Her fingers were cold and stiff from turning over half-frozen logs when she finally found the first cluster of mushrooms. They shone like red-capped gems in the soil, their tops sprinkled with white flecks. Ember covered her hand with a rag from her pack, tugging them free without letting them touch her skin.
She returned to the clearing with two mushrooms and sore fingers. Morgan presented her with six prizes of her own, smirking proudly at having surpassed Ember in gathering ability. “What now?”
Ember took a moment to think. “Do you have a spare canteen?”
“No, but I have a tin for cooking meats,” Morgan replied, pulling it out of her pack. It was a round, lightweight metal cylinder just larger than a fist.
“Even better,” Ember said, opening the lid of the tin and stuffing the mushrooms inside. Realizing her plan, Morgan broke off a branch from a nearby conifer, cutting it into shavings with her knife and dropping them into the tin.
“Tinder,” she explained. “Pine sap is highly flammable. Without it, the fire will never burn in these damp conditions.”
“Smart,” Ember acknowledged. “We need a way to protect me from the vapors, or I’ll be knocked out worse than the bear.”
“Let’s see what Hickory brought,” Morgan said, and they crossed the clearing, looking into his box of supplies. Sure enough, beneath the other odds and ends, there was a handful of strange-looking masks. Ember grabbed one, fitting it over her face. Its bulbous design constricted her breathing, but she was almost certain that it was intended to protect her from airborne particles.
Finally, the young Linneans walked together to the edge of the cliff. For a moment, Ember faltered. Though she was comfortable with heights, the jagged drop-off, coupled with the raging wind, filled her with white-hot terror. “You don’t have to do this,” Morgan reminded her. Ember shook her head, positioning herself near the edge and fastening the rope around her waist. It had been firmly fixed to a metal anchor, but she noted that the cord itself had not been reinforced, meaning it could be severed at a moment’s notice—presumably to prevent the Linnaean’s enemies from pursuing them during a mass exodus.
She planted her feet on the edge of the cliff, leaning back. The wind slapped against her side, threatening to unbalance her. Adrenaline sharpened her senses, and for a moment she forced herself to experience the sensation of being suspended in the clouds. She met Hickory’s eyes from where he stood beneath the trees, and he gave her a thumbs up.
Morgan connected the anchored end of the rope to a pulley, giving her increased control of Ember’s repel. “Good luck, and be careful,” she said, her face unusually serious.
Ember braced herself against the rock edge, letting Morgan feed her the rope. Slowly, she lowered herself downward, her hands and feet clinging to each crevice. The ground lurched dizzyingly below, obscured by the waterfall’s mist and the thick gas mask. She turned her head, looking only at the rock in front of her, and kept up her steady descent. At first, her scales protected her hands from the harsh stone, but eventually, they too gave way, exposing the raw skin beneath.
She noticed the first cave as she came up beside it. It fell into the cliff face like the gaping maw of a beast, surrounded by the dank smell of flesh. Ember paused only to check that the floor was bare, nonflammable rock before reaching one hand inside the pocket of her backpack and pulling out the container. Bracing herself against a ledge, she fumbled to strike a match, waited anxiously for the tinder to catch, and then rolled the entire package into the cavern.
She cringed as the tin clattered against the cave floor and disappeared around a bend. She had no way of knowing if it had worked—any smoke would be lost to the darkness and the wind the moment it wafted from the entrance. She rested the best she could against a small ledge, giving time for the fumes to take effect.
When she could stand the burning of her arms no longer, she lowered herself softly onto the cave floor, her boots sending up a cloud of dust. Even with the specialized mask, she could still detect the rank scent of an old kill. She kept the rope around her waist, hoping that Morgan had kept it taut enough to catch her if she had to jump from the cavern.
She took each step slowly, running one hand against the cave wall to keep her bearings. The darkness folded around her like a blanket, and she was infinitely grateful for her thermal vision. She encountered the sputtering smoke bomb about ten yards from the entrance and gathered it with the rag, holding it with an outstretched arm in the hopes that it would be potent enough to finish sending any awaiting beast into the deep recesses of sleep.
The cave narrowed slightly as she continued. Something cracked underfoot, and she stooped to examine it more closely, finding a long, yellowed bone. She pushed it aside, swallowing uneasily. Maybe I should stop now… surely we’ll score well enough if I bring back evidence that a bear is here. Still, almost inexplicably, her morbid curiosity and her desire to take the top score drove her to creep forward.
Ember froze as she rounded the last corner, not daring to breathe. The creature that lay ahead had a gargantuan thermal footprint, far larger than that of even the most impressive draft animal. Its breaths seemed to shake the cave walls, and Ember suddenly felt sure that the half-dozen smoked mushrooms would have done little to tranquilize the bear if it had been awake.
Her foot brushed something, and she crouched down without taking her eyes off the beast. This will be enough proof, she decided, barely registering that she had grabbed the half-eaten carcass of some little animal before beginning to back out of the cave.
Snap. Something broke beneath Ember’s boot, loud enough to reverberate through the tunnel. Terror coursed through her veins, and she stayed completely still, her heart thumping so loudly that she swore it would wake the bear if her footsteps had not.
Nothing came. She let out an inaudible sigh. Thank the gods.
The creature stirred. Its bulk shifted as it heaved itself to its feet, its massive head swinging to face her, its eyes two glowing green voids. A scream was born in Ember’s chest, bouncing up her throat like a pinball and dying behind her teeth.
She turned and ran. Her boots scrambled against the damp rock, trying to find purchase. She made it ten yards before she tripped, stumbling in the darkness and falling onto her knees hard enough to jar her teeth in her skull. At the last moment, she turned around to look death in the face.
The bear leaned down. Its terrible, rotten breath blew over her face as it smelled her. She grabbed blindly for the fang knife, but it was ripped from her hand by a giant paw. The four-inch canines drew closer, and she pressed herself against the damp rock. Trapped, she looked levelly back at the creature, finding an intelligence behind its gaze that pierced her, dissected her…
Wait. She narrowed her eyes. “You’re Linnaean, aren’t you?”