Page 94 of Dawn of Hope

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Page 94 of Dawn of Hope

Wildflowers of all different colors, shapes, and sizes bloom from the trees and weave into a colorful canopy. Below it lie a handful of graves, each marked uniquely, some with flat stones, some with piles or structures made of tree branches lashed together.

“The island makes sure this place stays beautiful for them, and for anyone else who may follow them,” Dane says quietly.

“I’m glad,” I mutter weakly. I feel overcome with emotion. This could have been me. I could have been brought here after what happened today. Dane could have been burying me here instead of showing it to me.

Dane shifts behind me. “That’s why I asked where you were. Most of them have died on or near the mountain.”

“You warned me. You said this place was dangerous.”

“I did. For more than one reason.”

I turn toward him. “Do you think you’ll find anything at the cliffs?”

“I’m not sure. It’s not like we haven’t looked there before. We look everywhere. But if Mara saw someone, it’s a start. I’d say come with me, but you need some rest and to fix up that hand.”

“Yes, I do.” I tug on the bandage Fin had tied on, still wet from the shower. Dane starts back down the path and I follow, but pause for a moment and look back over my shoulder toward the graves. I say a silent prayer to the gods for the souls of those who gave everything to help someone they loved. After a moment of silence, I turn and make my way back toward camp.

Dane helps me apply the magical salve to my face and hand and changes the bandage on my wound before heading out to meet with Mara and Fin. I hope the salve works quickly on my hand. I need it functional enough so I don’t have to skip a day of searching.

I head to my bunk, tediously climbing the ladder all the way to the top, my muscles and joints screaming as I pull myself higher. All I want to do is put the shade up and lay my head on the pillow, but first I have to update the map. I pull it out of my shirt and open it, flattening the creases and spreading it across the shelf. I trace out the mountain path and draw in the gap with a large ‘X’. Maybe, if this map ever falls into the hands of someone who needs it, knowing that path is dangerous might save their life.

I try to relax, but something Dane said keeps popping into my head. Most of the deaths occurred on or around the mountain. If that is true, why is it more dangerous than other places? Could it be simply because of the treacherous terrain? Or is there more to it? Was the island more dangerous the closer you got to the cure? Is there a reason it is trying to keep us away, and how can we beat it?

Am I right in thinking that the mountain is the key to finding the cure?

I look over everything I have sketched so far. All the other traps and diversions I ran into in other areas of the island haven’t been that bad. I’ve been able to get out of them on my own, or if I was with other people, it was usually a misdirection. But today was more than that.

The area surrounding the mountain needs to be my new focus, no matter how dangerous it is. That’s the point, isn’t it? To do what needs to be done to find the cure?

I take in the details of the sketch and my chest tightens as the realization kicks in. There is no avoiding it. If my theory is true, and the island is hiding the cure in or around the mountain, I have no choice.

I need to explore the sides surrounded by water.

I need to get over my fear, and fast.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

My palms are damp and my heart pounds wildly as I stand at the base of the mountain, right where Fin and I had climbed yesterday. I haven’t even taken a step toward the other side yet, but the fear and anxiety of being so close to the water is already gripping me.

The salve had worked wonders. The slice on my forehead looks like nothing but a scratch, and my hand has healed quickly, leaving only an angry, dark red scar. The aches and pains from being tossed into the jagged granite surface will take longer, and I am lucky I don’t have a head injury. I am sore, but I can move, albeit with a little less range of motion than normal. Brynne would scoff at me and tell me to work through the pain, but she wasn’t here to throw jabs at me today.

Today it’s just me and the water.

I take a deep breath and start the walk to the front of the mountain. There’s a clear path, but I move quickly. The path is unprotected, and just to the right, the trees come to an end, leaving me vulnerable in the open.

Dane and Mara had found no hint of the Castaways last night, no clues to their mysterious hideout. Dane has a theory they don’t settle in one place, and move only under the protection of darkness, which makes them so difficult to find.

His theory makes me feel a little better about searching the island during the day, but if Brynne taught me anything it is that I should still expect the unexpected and be prepared for an attack, especially since Mara’s sighting was in the middle of the day.

Today is just as hot as yesterday, which does not help my anxiety going into this search. I am already uncomfortable with my plan, and the discomfort from my clothes sticking to me and sweat dripping down every surface of my skin just makes it worse. My intention for today is to take in as much as I can. I haven’t spent a lot of time on this part of the island, so I want to get to know it while still staying away from the water.

I’m about to round a bend when I hear a snap in the trees. I reach for my bow to nock an arrow, but my hand comes up empty.

Shit. I gave it to Fin.

I stand still, squinting into the light and trying to see through the dense vegetation and shadows, but can’t make anything out. I continue on, and don’t make it another twenty steps before I hear a sound again, this time movement through the leaves.

“Dane?” I call out loudly, stopping to assess my surroundings. There’s no response. “Dane, this isn’t funny.”




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