While peace may be settling for the southern battlefield territories, Silvia finds herself up north where tensions are high. The meeting of the vampire leaders means trouble for Neil who has slain so many of his kind, and Rush is forced to make a de...
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It was late, and Mer shivered as she hiked through the trees with Rush ahead of her by only a few feet. She had to give him some brownie points for walking at her arduously slow pace, but he'd insisted that she had to walk herself up the mountain instead of carrying her. Or, you know, using magic. Mer had gotten accustomed to transportation spells and wondered if they hadn't caused her to gain a few pounds.
That wasn't the issue so much here though. Mer could do physical fitness like anyone, but of course it was night. Because, when else would Rush take her on a hiking trip through the wilderness but when she could trip on a stick and break her neck. They were almost at the top though, and she was excited to take a break. The trees were starting to flatten out and the incline wasn't as steep.
Rush had been near silent for the entire hike, which wasn't abnormal, per se, but every time he looked back at her, his green eyes glittered so much that she was starting to get the creeps. It was akin to the excitement a serial killer got while luring his prey to a dark alley. If he was so elated, why couldn't he talk more? All the better to drag out the suspense of your demise. Mwhahaha! Oh, she should really stop imagining Rush as a real villain. It was so not him, but also so funny. She had to stifle her snort of amusement as they finally reached a flat stretch of land and she collapsed onto her knees.
"Salvation," she exclaimed, and Rush chuckled like the jerk he was. "Where is this anyway?" Mer stretched, bumping her ponytail of curls with her arm.
She'd dressed conservatively for the hike in one of her jogging hoodies over a button-up night blouse, and Rush had insisted she wear something other than sweatpants. So she had a knee-length skirt on over some black leggings that went to her upper thighs. It was comfier for climbing if she had full leg mobility, though stumbling around in a skirt was not recommended if there were prying eyes. No one aside from Rush needed to see her tush as she fell.
"This is Shasta Falls," Rush said, gesturing ahead.
The best way for her to describe the rock face she saw, was if you made a little chair out of clay-doh, but without legs, and put the imprint of a cheerio in the seat cushion. That wasn't a great way to put it, but it was certainly weird. It was a huge waterfall basin with a lone island jutting up in the middle. All around it on one side, steep rock faces climbed up into the sky, with a pathway of ridges halfway up that met on the rock from the lion king, just sticking out of the middle.
And there was no water.
None–leaving the basin as a steep drop into hell, and the waterfall ledge as dry, cracking, sheets of rock that loomed in the darkness. The glow of the moon illuminated the curve of the semicircle of empty falls, and draped shadow over the deepest pits ahead. A bluff curled around them to the west, and everywhere else was just more of the forest surrounding this lone structure.
"What is this?" Mer asked, walking up to Rush's side. In the dim night light, his russet hair was near black, and the line of his chin was the divide between the shadows of his neck and the moon's echo on his skin. The emeralds in his eyes lowered to her, and he lifted his hand to cradle her chin with a smile. A real smile.
