She could see the ridge above her. Just a little farther. Her legs screamed with exertion and fatigue, but she used the sensation to fuel her. She had to keep going, or the trackers on her trail would catch her. And then... She redoubled her focus on her feet pounding over the uneven terrain. Two and a half days of running had done nothing to dull the panic induced by that thought.

Kaz crested the hill just as the sun peeked through the ragged cloud cover. She stopped for a moment to take in the view. A dim part of her realized that it was a truly spectacular one. Steep, majestic mountains loomed over a river valley, the folds of its crags appearing almost soft from her lofty vantage point. She knew differently. These mountains were the most brutal of the many climates on this continent. There were deserts and rainforests and salt flats, great open plains and magnificent oceans. But these mountains would defeat most people within a day. She had only gotten so far through a combination of practice and desperation.

Only a little above her, the snow-capped peaks poked through shreds of cloud, a chilly reminder of the sheer altitude of this remote place. She could feel the presence of the apus, the spirits of the mountains, immense and patient. She fervently hoped they were on her side. They made her feel very small.

Down and to her left she could just see the bridge across the river, barely more than a slender thread. The trail on the opposite side gleamed gold in the sudden sunlight. If its many switchbacks were anything to judge by, the way down would cross the relatively short distance in a characteristically roundabout manner. The descent would involve many ups and downs of its own, winding between trees and cacti, and crossing over many rivulets and waterfalls.

This terrain was exactly why so few people not trained or reared in the mountains ever ventured far into them, especially not without a guide. They simply would not come out alive. It was perfect for her purposes. Her knowledge of this environment was all that gave her an edge on the elite trackers. She knew that if they caught her, it would mean sacrifice to the very element that had turned her entire existence upside-down.

She took a swig from her water skin and slung it back across her shoulder. Her heart rate hadn’t even really begun to slow when she began to run down into the valley. It took tremendous concentration to descend inclines this steep. Her vision narrowed to include only the trail ahead. She bounded onto rocks and avoided slippery patches of gravel. She bounced from one direction to the other on tightly-stacked switchbacks. She barely saw the landscape as it flashed past.

It took her a solid two hours to descend the treacherous mile and a half to the bridge at the bottom, even running flat out. When she reached it, she took a moment to breathe and drink from her water skin again. She dug in her pack. She was running low on food. She would need to address that soon. Pulling out her last banana, she devoured it in a few bites and threw the peel in the river, where the current whisked it away.

Breathing more evenly now, she eyed the river. It was the first one she had encountered in her flight so far, which gave her a better sense of where she was. This must be the Amalu river, which flowed halfway between the capitol and Ticlanac. It was usually four days’ hike for anyone but trained messengers.

The bridge itself was...sketchy at best. It consisted of two lengths of rope, one above the other. They were tied to trees on both banks, high above the fast-flowing water. Kaz had heard of bridges like this, and had always fervently hoped never to have to cross one. This one made her knees wobble just to look at it. Or maybe they were wobbling from days of hard running. Probably both.

Kaz sighed. The bridge wasn’t going to get safer the longer she stared at it. She would just have to get it over with. Taking a deep breath, she stepped up to the tree where the near end was attached. She couldn’t help but peer at the knots, just to be sure. From her basic knowledge of knotwork, they looked solid. She placed both hands on the upper rope, which was about level with her shoulder, and began shuffling her feet along the lower one. After a few steps, she had reached the edge and stepped out onto the rope suspended over the void.

She hadn’t accounted for the wind. Crossing the river would have been plenty terrifying if the powerful gusts filtered down the valley hadn’t rocked the entire thing wildly back and forth. The further towards the middle she traveled, the worse the swinging got, until she had to fight not to squeeze her eyes shut and simply hold on for dear life.

Inch by fearful inch, she placed one foot in front of the other, balancing on the swaying rope. Two thirds of the way across, her foot slipped. She let out an involuntary shriek, and found herself sitting on the lower rope with her arms wrapped instinctively all the way around the upper one. The knife that she wore at her belt spun into the frothing water.

Once her heartbeat had slowed back to merely frantic, she drew her knees towards her chest so she was crouching on the rope. Then, unraveling her arms one at a time until she held the rope in her hands again, she carefully wobbled to her feet and continued moving forward.

Solid ground had never felt so good. Kaz took two steps away from the river, turned, and flopped against the other tree that supported the ropes. For a moment she breathed with her eyes closed, savoring the unwavering solidity of the ground beneath her feet.

When she opened her eyes, she scanned the path that she had just descended. About a third of the way up, her gaze alighted on three tiny figures, moving quickly. She stood up. The trackers. They were gaining. And she was sure that they had seen her, silhouetted as she had been against the pale gleam of the water.

She had to run, but they had the advantage of her. They were heading downhill, while she was about to start up. Maybe it would take all three of them longer to cross the bridge. The bridge! Kaz’s hand flew to her belt, before she remembered that she had lost the knife. Did she have anything else sharp? She glanced around, hoping to spot a sharp-edged rock or perhaps someone else’s dropped knife.

Her eyes came to rest on the knots. She grinned. The gruff fisherman who had taught her didn’t care who she was as long as she was willing to lend a hand. They hadn’t had time to teach her every knot they knew, but she had learned enough. She got to work, untying the expert knots.

As she finished the first, she considered flinging it into the river, and then thought better of it. She looped the rope in a simple knot that would unravel at the first significant weight. Then she knelt down and did the same to the second rope. “Let’s see them catch up to me now,” she muttered as she stood.

It occurred to her that the trackers may have seen her tampering with the ropes. She glanced across the valley. They were closer now, and moving with ominous speed. It would have been difficult for anyone to truly observe anything and maintain focus on the trail. She would just have to risk it. Plus, even if they had seen her, what could they possibly do about it? Trying uneasily to remember how the first people had gone about making such bridges, Kaz began to jog up the steep mountainside.

Next Chapter: 2. Owen - ’Vision’ Quest