63

Hawksbreath

Deilune wished they were on softer ground. Beilla and Abzeig were marching them along a rocky expanse that left little hope for anyone trying to track them. Even with the soaking rains of last night, the terrain was too rocky. Great slabs of stone prevented any consistent vegetation. Nothing that would leave a decent trail. Deilune gauged that it had been near noon when they’d set out. To him, it seemed Beilla and Abzeig were not interested in an early start after their late night out with the explosives.

Still banking that Beilla’s airplane would be located soon and the missing piece found under the seat, Deilune hoped his parents, if no one else, would understand. That Beilla intended to take them into the heart of Mount Breima.

As they trudged along, he kept slowing his pace trying to find a way to leave traces for those who might be trying to rescue them. From behind, Abzeig would wearily lift his gun and grunt to keep moving. Beilla and Abzeig said very little and stumbled more than either he or Linda because of the heavy backpacks they lugged beneath their capes.

After trekking for some time, Deilune they neared the spires of stone that comprised the “hands” of le Breima. Just beyond these jagged pinnacles, he could make out the rocky expanse that was literally the "face" of le Breima. Beilla was headed for the two sharp peaks that created the hands upraised in prayer. In the light of their recent miraculous events, Deilune felt a renewed sense of kinship for Feodeim Breima, his legendary ancestor.

Then Deilune spied something ahead that gave him hope for those trying to track them. He caught up to Linda and whispered, "Take heart, Linda. See those dark patches of vegetation between the rocks up ahead? Step on as many of those patches as you can. It will help those who are sure to be looking for us." She nodded. He squeezed her arm and fell in step behind her.

Those dark patches were a tiny budded, heather-like plant that was almost indestructible. Deilune remembered the plant from hikes he had taken in parts of this mountain range in his childhood. It was heiddahl.

During the day, heiddahl appeared wild and nondescript. But in the late afternoon and into the dusk, the tough little buds would open revealing a snowy carpet of white. This only occurred in autumn when the constellation of Hawk dominated the Lebreiman sky. Thus, heiddahl. Hawksbreath.

Though outwardly a hardy plant, hawksbreath was sensitive to being trampled. In daylight it showed no signs of being tread upon. But, when daylight faded, wherever the plant had been trodden down the buds would not open, and, like magic, dark footsteps would appear amidst the white carpet of blooms.

As he reached the first patch of hawksbreath, Deilune gave an extra thump and twist to each step. Take heart, he told himself and with each grinding step upon Hawk's namesake plant, his spirits lifted.