“The Climb”

“Shift change,” Neeman said, clapping Akish on the shoulder. Pima sat up and rolled her stiff neck. She and Akish were supposed to be keeping guard - which they were - but she had spent the last half hour with her head leaned against Akish’s shoulder, tucked against his side under his arm.

“Right,” Akish said, and immediately lay down to stretch out on his cot. He didn’t wait for Pima to stand. She leaped up just in time, stumbling away from the cot, and nearly fell face first on the ground. Neeman thrust out an arm and caught her.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. His hand lingered on her arm, and she felt his other hand hovering behind her back.

“I...I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay? Yeah, I guess.” She tried to laugh, but the forced noise that came out of her throat sounded more like a choked sob.

Neeman winced at the raw emotion in her voice and glanced away, past her, out into the misty darkness. “I wish there was something I could be doing. Anything but pace and stare at this dismal fog. Anything…”

It was Pima’s turn to blush and look away.

“Pima…” Neeman’s eyes bored into hers, burning with barely restrained emotion. “Pima, I…”

“No, Neeman. Not again. Not now.”

Neeman’s hand shot out, and he grabbed her hand to keep her from turning away. “Then when, Pima? I’m out of time. You have to know...I’ll risk everything, but only if I leave all regrets behind. That’s what I promised myself a long time ago. It doesn’t matter if you don’t have your own whispered promises to give me, but not telling you how much I care for you”---he tugged on her hand, swinging her around to face him---“not making you understand how much I love you will be my greatest regret.

“I love you. I’m sorry for any pain I’ve caused you since we’ve met, and any pain that I’ll cause you tomorrow. I’m sorry for leading you here, but…” He paused, and his eyes took on a faraway look. When he looked back down at her, her heart fluttered with an unfamiliar longing. “But I’m glad that I’m not here alone. I would be without you. Your face will be the last thing I see before I die.”

Pima couldn’t stop shaking her head. Just as she couldn’t stop from leaning toward him. He placed a hand on her cheek, brushing away a bit of salt-stain that had dried there.

“I’m sorry. I’ve run out of time. I can’t wait any longer.”

Pima closed her eyes as he bent down and pressed his lips against hers. They stood there for a minute, not moving, not breathing, and then Pima pushed a hand against his chest. He took a step back, and her eyes searched his face, memorizing the look in his eyes.

She opened her mouth, but she couldn’t think of what to say in response to his declarations. Neeman saved her the trouble by giving her cheek another caress and walking away.

Pima took two steadying breaths and then turned to look back out into the night. She felt something touch her ankle and looked down at Akish. His eyes were open, and his hand gripped her leg. He gave it a squeeze and smiled weakly at her. She brushed her hand against his. Then she returned it to his cot, tucking it beneath his blanket.

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She wasn’t tired. She had too many thoughts battling for her attention. One lap, she told herself, and then she’d lay down and rest. She hadn’t taken more than three steps when she saw it. A light in the distance. It grew closer as she watched, bobbing up and down, like a lantern in someone’s hand.

“Neeman! Akish!”

They were at her side in seconds, along with half the camp. She raised a shaking hand and pointed.

“Everyone up! Arm yourselves!”

Cries rang out through the camp following Neeman’s shouts. Pima’s hand tightened around the knife hidden in the top of her high boots, but she didn’t draw it. Not yet. She heard other people readying weapons, but she, Neeman, and Akish stood at the front of the line and watched the light approach.

It was a lantern. Pima realized this before she could make out the features of the figure carrying it. Her stomach churned as she saw that the figure - although of human shape with the height and build a man - had a blank face. Not a blank expression. A blank face. No eyes, no nose, no mouth. Dark hair, receding at the temples, fell down its shoulders.

It drew within five feet of them before Neeman cried out in a commanding voice, only slightly shaky, “Halt!”

The figure stopped and seemed to regard Neeman. It kept one hand in the air holding its lantern, which admitted a sickly, orangish light. Then it reached up and touched its empty face about where Pima assumed its mouth should have been. Suddenly, its pale complexion turned into a shiny black mirror. It lifted one edge of the mirror near its chin, hesitated, and then removed the rest of the black mask.

Neeman sucked in a sharp breath. Pima glanced at him, shocked to see his face drained of color.

It spoke---“Shouldn’t that be what I say? You are in my domain. This is my home. Not yours.”---and Neeman sucked in another breath. “You should not be here, son.”

“I am not your son,” Neeman barked, and then softer, quieter, “You are not my father.”

The figure of the man smiled - thin and cold - and lowered the lantern. His face wasn’t thrown into shadow but continued to glow as if illuminated from within.

“Are you sure?”

“Devil!” Avir yelled from behind Pima. From the corner of his eye, she saw him step forward and brandish a torch as if it was a weapon. Akish waved him back.

Neeman didn’t say anything, but his stance hardened, defiance clear-written on his face.

“Still,” the figure said, eyes sweeping their ranks. “You should not be here. You...or your friends.” His eyes lingered on Akish. Pima leaned in front of him, and the figure’s eyes snapped down to meet hers. “You do not want to relive your past. You wouldn’t survive the journey. No one does without going a little mad.” It lowered its voice as if speaking only to her.

“You know why we’re here. We will not turn back,” Pima said, meeting his burning gaze.

“Even if I were to tell you what is ahead?”

“You know we won’t.” Neeman advanced a step forward and raised his hand. He shook his head, his brown knitted as if in pain.

The figure’s response chilled Pima to the bone. “Then come. See what lies ahead.” It stretched its hand out to grab Neeman’s as he took another step forward.

“Neeman? Neeman, no!” Akish took hold of Neeman’s shirt and yanked him back. He pulled something out of his pocket and hurled it at the figure. It vanished, and the spherical object - the homemade bomb - made contact with the ground. The impact was deafening, and they all dropped to their knees.

The fog was sucked up in one big breath. The air became chokingly acrid as if the fog had been protecting them, not hindering them, and they found themselves gasping and staring up at the hulking shape of the Time Tower.