As we rose over the hill, the air left my lungs. The landscape had shifted all at once. Beyond the hills lay a twisted and barren land, overlaid with red rock formations that stretched into the sky like great ships and castles. Below them lay inky black crevasses which split the earth into a gargantuan jigsaw puzzle.

We made camp underneath the first of the formations, and the animals went to graze on the scraggly grass as Nico and I prepared dinner. We were both dead-tired, having traveled through both the day and night. For a few minutes, we sat against the rock, talking in low tones. After a moment of silence, I looked back at Nico. He had fallen asleep with his head tilted back, his face utterly relaxed.

I watched Nico’s chest rise and fall with each breath and considered how far we’d come. I pictured the map–by my best estimates, we’d traveled 1,050 miles since Karakul.

A dry wind blew over the cracked earth, blowing sand into my eyes even from the shelter of the rock formation. I wrapped a rag around my face and climbed to the top of the rock, moving carefully in the darkness. The land stretched out before me, just as alien as when I had seen it from the crest of the hill. The crevasses seemed even deeper now, and the formations taller; it was hard to believe that it was crossable, much less inhabitable.

I stayed atop the rock for at least half an hour, tracing each scar in the earth until it disappeared into the blackness. I can’t believe we’re not in Amberasta anymore. In the past two weeks, I’ve seen far more of the world than I did in eighteen years.

***

I woke up to the sound of rain. The sun had not yet risen, and the sky was dark and grey. The heavy feeling behind my eyelids had lifted, and the world seemed to be in sharper focus. For an instant, I panicked, unsure of where I was. Then my eyes settled on Nico, who was making a stew from the native plants and canned beef, and I remembered everything.

Past him, the land was hauntingly beautiful. The moon cast a strange, silver light upon the red rocks, and the stars shone through gaps in the clouds. The rain fell like a waterfall over the edge of the formation, and the rams bounded through the puddles, occasionally lowering their heads to drink.

Nico had already set out all of our water containers to take advantage of the storm. “The rain will erase all of our tracks,” he said, “the best-case scenario.”

I tilted my head to the sky, thanking whichever god had watched over us. The rain settled into a drizzle as we followed our morning preparations, including a brief aikido routine. Just before we left, I hiked down the hill and stood in the rain, letting it wash the previous days’ grime off of my skin.

We set off long before the sun rose, when the heat from the sun had yet to settle down on the land. The rams moved laboriously through the rocks and mud, and the clay plastered their legs until they were the color of the earth. When the sun rose over the horizon, the sky cleared, and the looming rock structures came into sharper clarity. They were like massive estates, some as large as the Fortress, notched with caves and natural stairs. Once in a while, Nico pointed at a plant or small desert animal and told me its common name.

Once the earth dried, the rams climbed with surprising ease. They sought the smallest point in each crevasse and bounded over in a single leap. When it was necessary to cross over a rock formation, they ascended almost effortlessly, keeping their bodies parallel to the rock and finding even the smallest holds for their hooves.

We traveled for two more nights over the barren land. We rationed the food and water strictly, but our water provisions soon ran low, and I feared the rams would grow weak. Just as a headache began to form at my temples, at the end of the six day since leaving Chibron, we came upon a deep crevasse–the largest so far, a jagged tear in the earth as wide as a house. Nico coaxed Sudlic to the edge and looked inside. “What will we do?” I asked. “We cannot cross here.”

“We go down.” I watched, horrified, as Nico as Sudlic stepped over the edge of the crevice. Quickly, I urged Alpizeep closer, my heartbeat hammering in my ears. My eyes widened–below us, Sudlic was balancing on four impossibly tiny ledges. As I watched, his hooves found holds I never would’ve noticed, and he descended deeper into the earth. Without being prompted, Alpizeep followed. I gasped, clinging to the saddle horn as we seemed to hang in the air.

The climb to the floor of the crevasse was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. The rams descended painfully slowly, often pausing for minutes at a time to readjust their weight or find a new ledge on which to stand. Several times, I thought that they had run out of footholds, but they were completely adept at finding even the smallest protrusions in the rock.

When we reached the bottom, I collapsed against Alpizeep’s back. “Thank you,” I whispered, rubbing his horns. In front of me, Nico dismounted Sudlic and let him drink from a bottle of water.

When my heart stopped racing, I looked up. We were in a thin corridor of rock, illuminated only by the few rays of sun filtering in from the crack above. In front of us was a massive wall of rock, made of thousands of multi-colored layers, each comprised of millions of small stones. It was as though a god had lifted the earth and compressed it.

“Come on,” Nico called, waiting with his backpack thrown over one shoulder and his arm resting on Sudlic’s horns. I followed as he turned and started to walk down the corridor.

After a few minutes, we stopped in front of another tunnel in the rock, running perpendicular to the corridor. We walked through in single-file, leading the rams behind us. The hike was a struggle–every few yards, we had to pull ourselves over boulders and turn sideways to fit through the narrowest areas.

We climbed onto a large, flat pillar, and suddenly the wall of rock opened us before us. Ahead was a cavernous gorge, framed by the open sky. Nearby trickled a line of water which widened into a wide blue stream at the base of the gorge. It cut through the rock like a knife, flowing out of the formation and disappearing into the distance. In the center of the gorge was an unusual rock formation, shaped by the water so that it looked like an inverted pyramid.

The four of us hiked through the gorge in single file, next to the gurgling stream. As we passed the inverted rock, I realized that it had acted as a sort of dam, slowing the river’s flow and creating a pool of clear water dozens of feet in diameter. At the back of the pool, the overflow waterfalled over the edge, filling the air with a dull roar.

I stopped and dipped a hand in the water, watching as the mud washed off my skin. I was speechless. The red rock, the blue water, all completely hidden–it was another world, an impossible oasis. “What is this place?” I whispered.

Nico looked at the stream in appreciation. “The Lunimis River breathed life into this land. It carved this gorge from the stone itself.”

I could do nothing but stare. “What are you waiting for?” Nico asked, amused by my excitement. He gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, throwing it onto a nearby rock. My eyes traced his muscles and the bandage on his shoulder as he bent over his backpack and popped out his latest set of colored contacts.

Nico rolled up his pant legs and waded into the water, and I ran after him. The water rose above me until it reached my stomach, and, with a sigh, I let myself be completely submerged. For a moment, I floated suspended under the surface, relishing the cool against my skin.

When I came up for a breath, Nico was splashing his face and chest. His back was slick with water. “Are you going to swim?” I asked.

“I can’t.” He gestured at his wound. “Don’t worry about it, though. Enjoy yourself.” With one last glance at him, I dove back underwater. I had forgotten what it felt like to swim. The last time was with Katrina and Owen, I remembered. Back then, my feet had easily touched the bottom of the polluted river. Now, to reach the bottom, I had to hold my breath and dive down several body-lengths.

I blew air from my nose and sank like a stone. The bottom of the pond was soft where algae had grown onto the rock, and long strands of freshwater plants reached toward the sun. A small school of minnows was nibbling at the stalks, and I pushed a hand forward, sending them scattering.

I explored the entire pool. When I came up to breathe, I looked for Nico, who was laying on a nearby rock. I swam over and rested my hands against it. I was not a strong swimmer, and my arms and legs shook from the exertion. Still, I couldn’t help myself from smiling. “Did you have a good time?” Nico asked.

I met his eyes. “This is amazing,” I panted, and he smiled. With his dark hair swept to one side, I could see his face clearly. My heart fluttered–I had forgotten how dark his eyes were without the colored contacts. He was the most at ease I’d ever seen him, sprawled on the rock with one foot trailing in the water and his good arm blocking the sun’s glare.

A cloud passed overhead, and I shivered from the sudden chill. “Are you cold?” he asked. His voice was low, and it made my face flush. “C’mere.”

Hesitantly, I pulled myself onto the rock next to him and took a moment to catch my breath.“Nico,” I said, “Thank you for this. I know that if you were alone, you may not have gotten shot. But thank you for showing me all of these things. I’ve never felt so free in my life.”

Nico laughed again, and I glanced at him in surprise. “You’re right, at first I was worried that you’d slow me down. But now…” he turned to face me, and our eyes met. “I haven’t done these things before, either. Talking over breakfast, stargazing, and swimming… it feels so natural. And don’t forget you saved my life, too.”

My breath caught. In that moment, he felt more real than all the things I carried with me: my past, my loss, and my crushing loneliness. He reached out and clasped my arm in a gesture of solidarity. I was enraptured―he was close enough that I could feel his breath fan over my face.

I took a deep breath and let my head rest against the rock. The warmth of the sun was like a caress on my skin, and I could hear my pulse in my ears, loud and steady. “Nico,” I said, “is it wrong that I never want to go back?”

He closed his eyes. “It’s not a crime to be happy, even though we’re at war. If anything, happiness is the greatest rebellion of all.” There was a pause as he considered what to say next. “But Anabelle, we must never forget to fight. It is a duty that comes with freedom.”

***

“We’re almost there,” Nico called. I dragged my weary legs over the rocks and joined him at the back of the gorge, missing the cool water against my skin. The midday sun was already beginning to leave burns on my arms.

“You said that miles ago,” I snapped.

“I mean it this time.” His expression was suddenly uneasy. “Listen, when we reach our destination, you’ll see… there’s a strict hierarchy. I don’t like it, but it’s how they survive.”

I glanced at him. His meaning was clear: when we arrived at the base, we could not be as familiar with each other. “It’s okay,” I said, hiding my disappointment. “I’m sure that I’ll adjust.”

He nodded. “Then are you ready?”

“Absolutely.”

Together, we climbed out of the narrow gorge. The full expanse of the desert sky stretched overhead, and the land shimmered with heat. Nearby, a natural stone arch rose from the ground, shaped like a massive bell. Beyond it was a vast canyon, occupied by a series of monumental stone structures.

“We’re here,” Nico announced. “Bellgate, the last city-state. Stay close to me.”