Chapter 11: 10. Going Up The Mountain

Jarrod isn’t found by morning of the next day. When the men come back into the village, my father looks at the village head with a serious expression and gives a small shake of his head. They eat breakfast in the village square, and the older men go home to rest for a while, but the younger men and my father all stand up to head back out.

“Don’t worry, Gordon. I’ll bring him home.”

My father almost looks kind of reliable when he says it. My mother holds me in her lap protectively and we watch him leave together.

For the rest of the day my mother doesn't let me leave her side. While going down to the river, I go with her to help her wash. When cooking, I stand by her in the kitchen. If I leave half a step, she panics and grabs me back. When I go to use the outhouse, she even hovers outside the door.

In the evening, the men come back empty handed again. The older men who know the mountain well are going to head back out into the dark. But if they don’t find him tonight…

They won’t find him alive.

No one says it, but that’s the feeling.

As for me, my mother sends me to bed early once again after dinner. I lay curled up in bed, closing my eyes to sleep with faith in my father.

Or so I’d like to say, but I can’t leave a child out in the cold night alone. At least, not when it’s my fault he’s out there—though I wish Jarrod had been smarter and simply gone straight to the adults.

Trust me, I understand that this is objectively a stupid decision. One three-year-old child, regardless of their mental age, can’t do better at finding a lost child than a seasoned adult adventurer. This is the point in the novel where the reader rolls their eyes and goes, “yeah right, you’re just going to make things worse.”

But listen to my justification:

I feel guilty.

It’s not a feeling I enjoy! So the easiest way to deal with it is to do something about it. It’s simple selfishness.

So I climb out the window, conjuring a gust of wind to help break my fall and mask the sound of my collision with the ground.

Jailbreak: success!

Until the light turns on behind me and I see my mother glaring at me through the window.

“Ah.”

“You—”

“I’ll be back before morning!”

I sprint off into the dark.

 

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I run through the dark up toward the mountains at the back of the village. It’s in the same general direction as Duckweed Pond, and it’s the only place Jarrod could be without being found so far. There are no thick forests on the plains, only some forestation on the mountain, and if he couldn’t get home by himself then it may be because he fell down somewhere on the steep hiking trails.

Once I get to the treeline of the mountains, I stop just before entering. I then raise a hand, chanting with a gesture, “Guidance!”

A golden light appears in my palm, elongating into an arrow shape. It spins rapidly in a circle before stopping, pointing in a direction.

Guidance Lvl.2: 10 MP

With a clear and simple question in your mind, you call upon help to guide you in a decision. A sign will be delivered.

Then Jarrod should be that way. I check the direction against the stars, though I may not always be able to see them from within the trees, then step upon the mountain trail. I wait until I’m within the treeline before calling forth a magical fire to light the way, in order to obscure the flame from anyone watching.

The path is steep and not easy to walk on small legs even during the day, and I find myself tripping and stumbling on uneven ground and raised roots all the more so in the sharply contrasting shadows of fire and night. I have only been up here twice, once with my father and then once with my mother. I don’t know the path well, so I can only try and go steadily.

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I stop to rest after what feels like an hour, then climb a tree quickly in order to check the position of the stars. I don’t want to waste too much magic casting “Guidance” over and over again, so I have to try to do this as old school as possible.

I can’t call out Jarrod’s name in case an adult hears me, or I attract a wild animal. But I hope the fire will both repel animals while also letting me see.

I feel like I might be halfway up the mountain now, after walking for longer. I can’t risk passing the child by, so I finally cast “Guidance” again to try to narrow down the search area. The arrow spins, pointing once again in the same direction—further up the mountain. My stomach clenches. That’s half my MP gone, but there’s still so much left to search.

Still, I have to keep going.

I wish I knew forestry and survival skills. If I could track the trail… I suppose that’s something my father can do. He seemed to be able to easily find prey when he took me hunting up the mountain. Ah, if only I’d asked for some points.

No, even if I did, I wouldn’t have learned them well enough by now for them to be of use. It’s better to be careful and do things my way.

What is my way? Although I don’t have experience in search and rescue from my old life or anything like that, I have a different advantage. Namely, I’m a child. At least half a child, in any case.

As a child, if I was alone in the mountains—no, if I was an idiot with dreams of heroism alone in the mountains, where would I go? I am looking for a shrimpy child I consider to be my friend even though they’re nothing but rude to me and ignore me, because I’m scared they’re lost and alone. As the eldest, it’s my responsibility if they get lost.

I start around the base of the mountain, looking for tree holes and places they might be hiding. When I don’t immediately find them… I’m an idiot with a big imagination, so maybe I worry that they got dragged off by a wild animal or something? So I head further up the mountain?

No, that’s not right. Although Jarrod is an idiot, he’s not totally stupid. If he believed I was dragged away by an animal, he’d immediately go find my father. If he thought I was up the mountain for any reason, in fact. So if he headed up the mountain, it’s not because he wanted to go there himself.

Probably… he was escaping. Something was between him and the village, and the only place he could run was further up.

A monster was seen in the woods, I remember, feeling scared. So I break into a run, foolishly.

I’m a child on the run. There’s a monster chasing me. What do I do? Well, nothing except keep running. I’m too scared to think rationally, so I run on instinct. But the climb is steep and I don’t have the energy to run forever. How do I outrun a monster? How do I escape it?

I can’t. But it’s big, and I’m small! So I need to find somewhere to hide, somewhere small and tight it can’t reach me! A treehole? No, too shallow. Then climbing a tree—no, it will take too long! What would I do if I were Jarrod? Where would I go?

The cliffs! There are cracks and crevices all along the cliffs where all kinds of wild plants and herbs grow in the shade. Normally adults don’t allow us there without supervision, but even less so with all of the summer rain. The stones are loose, and they’re liable to collapse or cause a rockslide if you’re not careful.

If Jarrod was scared enough he wouldn’t think about that—or desperate enough, he would risk it. If the rocks collapsed and buried him… he might still be alive, but for how long?

It’s only a theory, but I have to hurry in case I’m right!

So I go searching along the cliffs for any signs of recent collapse, or of some kind of large animal clawing at the earth. I keep my magic held aloft, lighting as much of the area as possible. Nothing jumps out at me and for a while I fear that my theory was off-the-mark—until I see a mound of rocks.

That’s it, I’m sure of it! Only some of the rocks are discoloured, with others fresh like they were only recently exposed to the elements. With the current weather, too, even a week would be enough to see some weeds and lichen beginning to sprout and grow on the stoneface, but it’s still bare with earth that hasn’t been washed away by rain.

I clamber up, calling out desperately, “Jarrod! Are you there? Jarrod!”

I hear nothing—until I hear a weak voice. “Shorty?”

“Ah! Jarrod! Yes, it’s me, hold on!” I aim my finger up, summoning a surge of magic, and with that I fire my magical flame up into the sky. It bursts into an explosion of sound and light, just like a flare. My father will recognise my magic, I’m sure, and come find us.

What? I should dig him out? Absolutely not. I’ll just tire myself out, and I’m more liable to shift the current precariously balanced pile of rocks and make things worse, maybe even crush him. That he’s still alive, that he still has enough oxygen to breathe and talk, is already a miracle!

“Sh-shorty, you have to go.” I hear his voice continue on faintly. “It’s not… safe.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna disturb the cliff—”

“N-no! The monster—!”

I suddenly hear a growl behind me with almost comically perfect timing. Are you serious? When I turn around slowly, trying not to make any startling movements, I see it. The body of a wolf but the tusks of a boar, the size of a pony, and slowly approaching me—a real, bonafide monster.