Chapter 187

  The Unspoken Hurt (V)

  The night was quite a ways colder and darker than any of the ones before we experienced. The temperatures dropped well below zero--in fact, it quickly started reminding me of that dreaded weekend Yas and I got lost while hiking at the PCT; we were young and we were dumb, and we thought it would make for a fun story, so we decided to take off during the mid-summer from the Mexican border and try and cross to Oregon, at least.

  The beginning was fine--I mean, the trail was rugged and kind of hard, but it was, you know, California. Besides dropping a lot of $ on sunscreen, it was mostly just battling the scorch and hiding in the shade, for the most part moving before midday and in the evening to nightfall.

  However, by the time fall rolled around, we were tired, and we were deep. I don't think we were even entirely sure exactly where we were on the trail--Yas was convinced that we were at Oregon's border, probably at the Klamath Mountains, while I was convinced that we were actually deeper and in the Three Sisters Wilderness.

  Our already fighting spirits escalated, and we must have missed a poorly marked sign or one obscured by the fallen pine tree needles, but we realized... we were lost. Suddenly, it didn't really matter where exactly in the trail we were, because all forests at night, at least to me, look the same. Just a whole lotta strewn rocks and trees, and weather to match.

  The night fell, and as though there was a cold snap, the temps dropped massively. It didn't help that the somewhat summer-like rain turned into icy hail, so much so that our tent got freakin' shredded. That's when we realized that a tent that was somewhat good at insulating from the heat was not good at beating back scathing winds and hail.

  We were lost for about four days until we luckily stumbled upon a Forest Service road and flagged down a pickup, deciding to call it quits. Never did make it to even central Oregon (turns out that she was right as to where we were), much less Washington, but it did make for a fantastic story as to why we never went for full-thru hikes again. Only small, known trails that have a visible end and beginning, and nothing else.

  Anyway, since Long Tao was guiding us, I didn't think we'd get lost--but I was a bit concerned over the weather. Mountains, especially, were notorious for having mood swings when it comes to weather--one day it'll be sunny and peachy, and the next... well, the next you feel like you have to light yourself on fire just to feel warm.

  I once again resorted to using Art of Surviving to stay somewhat warm, and we mostly stuck to the shadows and shade until we reached the far edge of the castle, where Lilia and Zhu were waiting for us. I'd already informed them, though I didn't expect them to be waiting so... openly.

  Both seemed rather eager to depart, so we skipped the chit-chat; if anyone here was looking forward to taking down the monster hiding in the mountains, it was these two.

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  If the castle was cold and dark, then the mountain was, well, hell. At some point, no matter how much I pushed Art of Surviving, I was simply cold. Not shivering-stages cold, thankfully, but cold enough that it was annoying.

  Like that feeling when you wake up early in the morning because it's slightly cold, but not cold enough to warrant another blanket or turning on the heating? And you fix it by just huddling up with your knees into your chest?

  Bad thing I can't walk like that.

  As far as seeing things goes, I abandoned that notion a long time ago. We didn't want to risk anything, so we didn't start a fire or use some shamanic spell to conjure a sphere of light or anything of the sort.

  Moonlight?

  Yeah.

  There was none of that, not tonight. It was as dark as dark comes, and even using Qi to enrich my eyes (I've been practicing doing these very mundane things that Lu Qi never did) and enable 'night vision' only, really, gave me about three or four feet of distance. Great for not headbutting any trees, awful for seeing where we were walking.

  Of course, that's just my perspective--looking at the indifferent and somewhat excited expressions of the kids, I imagine they were having a feeling of going on an adventure.

  ... honestly, I didn't feel good that everyone was coming. I'd have thought that it'd only be Long Tao, me, and the pair of shamans--but it wasn't just the kids that 'insisted', it was also Long Tao.

  Luckily, I think he made a crucial distinction--he said it'd be 'good for them to see it', and not, 'It'd be great for them to fight a shaman'. So, I'm guessing that he has enough conscience not to pit them against something like that.

  Could still be a misdirection, though, since it is Long Tao, after all.

  We descended in almost a straight line (save a few trips to the side to avoid steeper falls... which I could not see) for about half an hour before Long Tao came to a halt and pressed in a straight line but to the side.

  It was also then that it started to rain... I think? I mean, it was wet and drippy, but it also kind of looked like a mixture of icicles and snow. It wasn't hail, as it would just melt against my robes, but it wasn't strictly rain either, nor snow...

  I don't know.

  It was something in-between, I guess.

  What I did know, however, was that within minutes, it actually kind of hurt to breathe. The air felt razor sharp with how cold it was, and I had to add an additional layer of heating literally within my throat just to avoid wincing.

  I will say--Qi, even if stripped of all those magical properties of making things go boom and turning people into superhero-level threats, would have made for such a revolutionary thing back on Earth. I mean, I'm fairly certain I can just use Qi to breathe anywhere, as it acts like a mask of sorts. Just the ability to stay relatively warm or cool in any environment is already a blessing on its own, but these tiny little things that I didn't even really think about until I was pressed to recognize...

  Wow.

  I felt a slight elbow stab when Long Tao stopped next to me, his eyes shifting to our right, where I used every bit of focus that I could to spot a very, very loose opening in the mountain.

  "We're here," I voiced softly as everyone came to a halt.

  "Everyone, use the rune," Lilia called out as we all pulled out strange little objects she gave us before we started descending. We didn't really have to do anything but hold them, though; within a moment, I felt the strangely smooth 'rock' kind of vibrating and could sense some alien energy heating it up slightly. "This will shield us from the most basic entrapment runes and spells, but it won't be able to do anything against any advanced ones.

  "Stick to us." The two shamans of the group stepped to the front, their figures suddenly cloaked in a fading sheen of emerald light. "And try not to make a sound."