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“We don’t have time!” I cry. Grabbing my satchel, I reach within and caress the four roses. “What if there’s something up there that can help light the forge? What if this can bring some magic back to the Vale?”
“I know, but—”
“No.” My hands form fists at my sides. “I figure this out today.”
If I can’t briar or fly up, then that leaves one option.
Climb.
“It’s no big deal,” I tell Farron, but my breath is shaky, and I have to keep wiping my palms on my trousers. “It’s like climbing a jungle gym.”
“I don’t know what that is, but I have the distinct feeling you were not good at that.” Farron crosses his arms.
Damn Farron, always right. I spent all my human years avoiding climbing anything that I could. Jungle gyms, trees, rock climbing walls—nope, not for me. Now I’m just staring up at, oh, a few thousand floating rocks.
“When you die, can I have your stuff?” Jack asks.
“No!” Farron and I both say together. I sigh and knead the bridge of my nose. “I’m not going to die. I’m going to get to the Gardens of Ithilias and plant the roses. There is no other way.”
“Maybe there is. Rosie, if you’d consider waiting—” Farron begins.
If I don’t do this now, I’ll lose my nerve. So I step forward, rolling from my heels to the tips of my toes, and then dart into the middle of the floating rocks.
After assessing the stability of a decent-shaped rock, I jump and pull myself up. Okay, that wasn’t so hard. The top of this stone is broad and steady, and I easily find my balance. There’s another chunk, not too big and not too small, only a few steps away. I leap onto it, pebbles rolling beneath my boots. The third rock is smaller than I judged, and I nearly overstep it.
My heart leaps into my throat, but if I stop to think for too long, I’ll stop for good.
“Keep going, Rosie girl,” I tell myself. “One step at a time.”
So I do. One jump, then another. The sky grows wider beneath me with every breath.
As I find my balance on a particularly jagged rock, the wind catches the hem of my shirt and whips it behind me. My hair sticks to my lips, my eyes. I push it back and focus all my attention on the rocks. They float lazily, some spinning, others drifting up and down, no rhythm to ascertain.
The rocks around me now are quite small. For some deluded reason, I look down. Farron and Jack are peering up at me, no bigger than dolls.
“You’re doing great!” Jack calls.
Farron doesn’t say anything.
I swallow down the nausea. “Here we go.”
One, two, three, I use the rocks as stepping stones before hurling myself toward a boulder. I don’t quite make it, slamming into the side. My palms scrape as I fall, leaving a bloody trail, before my fingers hook into a fissure. Digging my toes into the crevices, I haul myself on top, panting.
That was too close. There’s got to be an easier way. Forcing myself to my feet, I turn in a circle and observe all my options. No other big boulders nearby, but a pretty solid rock hovers up ahead. If I can create a briar bridge from this boulder to that one…
Magic sings below my skin as a golden briar splits the rock beneath me, surging out—
Crack.
Hairline fractures split the surface I’m standing on, and the stone groans. The firm ground beneath my feet turns to dust, the rock too fragile, too old, to hold my briars. My stomach lurches. My hands grasp out, but there’s only open air.
Then I’m screaming as the wind whips past. Pain thuds through me as my hip smashes into a rock that sends me careening away from the rock tunnel. There’s nothing but the tiny isle and the clouds below me.
Fear more primal than anything I’ve ever experienced rockets through my body. Too fast, I’m moving too fast. The tiny isle isn’t even below me; it’s to the side. How far will I fall? How long can I scream before my lungs give out?
There are no logical thoughts left within me, but some instinct takes hold. I dart my hand out. A briar shoots from the small isle, finding purchase in the earth, then snakes toward me. The briar seems to sense my fear, moving at lightning speed before wrapping around my body.
I curl my fist, and it slows to a stop a few feet away from the isle. Slowly, I’m reeled in, a thrashing fish on a line. I hit the ground with a thud.
