Crossed

CHAPTER 22 CASSIA

We’re almost to the top; we can almost look out over the plain.

“Cassia, stop,” Indie says as I start to climb an outcropping of rocks.

“We’re almost there,” I say. “I have to see.” Over the last few hours I’ve felt strong again, clearheaded. I want to stand on the highest point so I can try to see Ky. The wind is cold and clean. It feels good rushing over me.

I climb on top of the highest rock.

“Don’t,” Indie says from below. “You’re going to fall.”

“Oh,” I say. There is so much to see. Orange rocks and a brown-grassed plain and water and blue mountains. Darkening sky, deep clouds, red sun, and a few small cold flakes of white snow coming down.

Two little dark figures, looking up.

Are they looking at me?

Is it him?

This far away, there’s only one way to know.

I point to the sky.

For a moment, nothing happens. The figure stands still and I stand cold and alive and—

He starts to run.

I make my way down the rocks, slipping, sliding, trying to get to the plain. I wish, I think, my feet clumsy, moving too fast, not fast enough, I wish I could run, I wish I’d written a whole poem, I wish I kept the compass—

And then I reach the plain and wish for nothing but what I have.

Ky. Running toward me.

I have never seen him run like this, fast, free, strong, wild. He looks so beautiful, his body moves so right.

He stops just close enough for me to see the blue of his eyes and forget the red on my hands and the green I wish I wore.

“You’re here,” he says, breathing hard and hungry. Sweat and dirt cover his face, and he looks at me as though I’m the only thing he ever needed to see.

I open my mouth to say yes. But I only have time to breathe in before he closes the last of the distance. All I know is the kiss.