The descent was more difficult than the short climb before it. Downhill was always more challenging for Owen, but the fast pace made it still more wearing. Most of his attention went to his feet, as he used the sound of Devlin’s gate and the angle of the dog’s leash to guide him. 

Kaz didn’t speak much as they walked. She seemed a little impatient, but accepted that he was going as fast as he could. The first time they stopped for a drink, she brought up the issue of their cover story. 

“I think pretending we’re related could work. But we don’t know each other well enough to be siblings.” 

Slightly taken aback by the abruptness of this statement, Owen nevertheless answered honestly. “I agree,” he said. “What if we say we’re cousins?” 

“OK,” said Kaz. “Then all we need is a reason to be traveling together. Why do most people around here travel?” 

“That’s harder,” said Owen. “Most people from villages like mine don’t travel much at all. Dad’s had to travel sometimes to heal or consult someone important who hears of his skill. But other than that, we’re mostly pretty self-sufficient. I guess sometimes someone has to trade in the market in Alkantay, but they don’t usually go any further.” 

Kaz sighed. “Well, who does travel then?” 

“Messengers mostly. And I guess every once in a while you hear about someone who was chosen as a mage and goes off to a big city to train.”

“Could I say that?” asked Kaz. “I mean, in a way, it’s true.” 

“Maybe,” said Owen. “But then why wouldn’t you study in Alkantay? And why would you have your blind cousin with you?”

“Good point,” said Kaz. “Well, let’s keep going. Maybe something will occur to us as we move.” 

Owen agreed, though privately he thought it unlikely he would have a brainwave while focusing so hard on his feet. As they set off, however, he noticed that Kaz’s focus on their cover story made him uneasy. He wasn’t sure why. He pondered this with the part of his brain not occupied with the trail, but hadn’t gotten very far by the next time they stopped an hour later. 

This time it was at a small stream that bubbled across the path. A small cascade gushed and sprayed from off to their right, coating everything in moisture. When they stopped, Devlin gave a bark of joy and bounded forward to lap at the water. Owen sat down right on the path. 

“Ok, so could we use your father’s skill as a healer to justify our travel?” 

Owen sighed and reached back until he felt a tree trunk. He scooted towards it and leaned gratefully against its reassuring solidity. 

“Do we have to talk about this now?” he asked. The afternoon heat was getting to him, and he was painfully aware of how little he had slept the night before. Combined with the intense focus of the descent, his brain felt limp and sodden, like a vegetable that had been cooked for too long. 

“You were the one that said we had the entire descent to come up with a cover story.” 

Owen couldn’t argue with this. “But,” he said, “Can’t we just rest for a few minutes before discussing it?” 

“Owen, we have to keep moving. We don’t know when the trackers will be after us again.” There was an edge of anxiety of her tone that Owen suddenly connected as the source of his unease. He understood her worry, but knew he could not help her in his current condition. 

“Kaz, I won’t be able to come up with anything unless I rest for a few minutes.” 

“What have you been doing this whole time if you haven’t been helping me think up a story?” The accusation in her voice stung, and Owen felt his anger, not a common emotion for him, rise.

“I’ve been focusing on not falling on my face,” he snapped. “I’m pretty sure this would all go a lot slower if I went tumbling down the mountain.” 

In the silence that followed, Devlin padded over to Owen, lay down, and put his wet muzzle on his lap. Owen automatically petted the soft head, and felt his annoyance fade slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” said Kaz. “You make it look so natural, I forgot how hard you must be working. I suppose we can spare a few minutes.” 

“Thanks,” said Owen, closing his eyes gratefully. He was too tired to stay angry with her now that she had apologized. 

~

He awoke to rain speckling his face. As so often happened in these mountains, an afternoon thunderstorm had formed, although this one felt like it would be much bigger than the gentle afternoon showers that were more frequent. Owen could feel the chill as the gathering clouds obscured the sun, the thickness of the uneasy air whipping tree branches into a whispering frenzy above him. In a moment, he knew, the smattering of drops would give way to a downpour, with sizzling lightning and shuddering thunder announcing their dominance across the valley. 

“Kaz?” he said, sitting up; he had slid down the tree in his sleep. Devlin whined and pressed against his side. “It’s ok, Lin,” he murmured. “We’ll find shelter. I know you don’t like thunder.” 

He heard a stirring beside him. “Kaz?” he said again. 

“I guess I fell asleep too,” she said, her voice muzzy. “Good thing it started raining or we would have slept longer.” 

“Good thing? Kaz, we have to find shelter. Haven’t you ever been caught in a mountain storm?” 

“Sure. They usually pass pretty quickly.

“This isn’t an afternoon shower,” he told her, frustrated. They were losing time. “This is the kind of storm that kills. It would be stupid, even fatal for us to get caught out in the open.” 

Owen was already clambering to his feet, slinging his pack over his shoulder and grabbling Devlin’s leash. 

“But how can you tell? It looks like every other rainstorm I’ve ever seen.” 

“It’s the air, Kaz,” said Owen, impatient at her slowness and disbelief. “It’s heavy and thick. And that wind? It’s not a good sign. Come on! I’ve lived in these mountains my whole life. Do you really think I  can’t recognize a thunderstorm waking up?”

“Alright, I believe you! So what do we need to do?” To his relief, Owen heard Kaz stand and throw on her pack. 

“Find shelter,” he told her. “A structure would be best, but a large tree will do in a pinch. Do you see anything like that?” 

“Well,” said Kaz slowly. From her footsteps, he knew she had approached the path’s edge and must be peering down at the trail below them. “There’s a tree at the next switchback. Not huge, but maybe...hang on. Maybe half a mile down there’s a messenger’s hut.” 

“Let’s go,” said Owen. He knew they were pushing it trying to go so far before the storm hit. But they didn’t have much choice. It would be far worse to be caught in the open. 

They started out at a good pace, about the speed they had maintained before. It became clear very quickly, however, that Owen needed more help to navigate the slippery, muddy trail. After his second fall in as many minutes, Kaz helped him up and held his elbow. She caught him as he slipped and slid, and guided him around the worst patches, warning him when they were unavoidable. Between her and Devlin, he managed to stay on his feet, but he was aware how slowly they were going. The energy of the storm continued gathering, spurring him to move forward at what was, to him, a downright reckless pace. 

Two switchbacks down, the sky opened up. Thunder shattered the air. “Only one more switchback,” shouted Kaz over the downpour and the roaring thunder. Owen reassured the whining Devlin as the three of them slithered around the last corner. To his immense relief, the trail widened and leveled off here. 

They reached the hut, threw aside the blanket covering the door, and tumbled inside just as another enormous roll of thunder shook the walls. 

Even through the cacophony of the storm outside and his own relief at making it to shelter, Owen realized that something was wrong. There was the unmistakable waiting, listening quality of several people who were surprised to see one another. Kaz’s grip on his elbow was suddenly fierce, and she had stopped breathing.

Next Chapter: 23: Kaz - Trackers