More gusts of wind blow, forcing me to a stop as I sway back and forth on the line. Once, I’m so startled that my hands lose their grip. I have the brief sensation of falling before the safety ropes catch me. I can tell they’re being pushed to their limits, and I frantically grope for the line again to take some of the pressure off. The wind’s interference slows me, but at last I manage to grasp the line again. I breathe a deep sigh of relief, even as I accept a frightening truth: If I lose my grip again, there’s no telling if the ropes will hold me.
The moon shifts through the sky as I climb, and my heart leaps as I see the top of the mountain coming into view. I’ve nearly made it. A new surge of adrenaline spurs me on, and I increase my speed, fighting the pain and stiffness in my body. Within an hour, I’ll be at the end of the zip line.
As that triumphant thought fills me, a jolt on the line suddenly makes me lose my grip. The ropes catch me again, and I quickly manage to regain my hold—just in time for another jolt. It takes me a moment to figure out what is going on: I’m slowly being pulled backward.
Someone at the base of the mountain is winding the line back down.
CHAPTER 14
FOR A FEW TERRIFYING SECONDS, I don’t know what to do. Then, seeing all the precious ground I’ve made slipping away from me, I frantically begin climbing up the line again, desperate to outpace whoever is pulling down below. It’s too late at night for the line keeper to be back at his post. I wonder whether the soldiers finally deduced what happened to me. Or is it possible that they forced Li Wei to talk and interpreted with the help of one of Nuan’s people?
That last thought—of what they might have had to do to get Li Wei to reveal my location—is too horrible to endure. I push it out of my mind as I fight to regain my position and move faster than the line is being lowered. I barely manage it, but I know I can’t sustain it. It was already excruciating going up when I didn’t have someone working against me. Now I can already feel myself losing the battle. My hands—bloody and raw through the now-tattered gloves—slip a number of times, delaying me as the strained ropes catch me and force me to get a new and increasingly painful hold. My distance gained shrinks, and soon I’m almost at a standstill. In moments, I will be descending again.
I glance down, desperate for a way out. In the moonlight, I see a wide, rocky ledge jutting out from the cliff’s side below me. It won’t be a comfortable drop, but I can make it and survive. What I’ll do from there remains to be seen, but it’s either that or let all my progress vanish as my unseen opponent pulls me back down.
In a second, my decision is made.
I wiggle my way out of the loose safety ropes, an action that costs me some elevation as I’m jerked back down the line. I suppose now I don’t have to worry about whether the ropes will hold my weight anymore. Once free, I grit my teeth and summon more of that desperate strength to climb forward against the pull, enough to get myself in a safe position over the ledge. It is grueling work, made more terrifying by the knowledge that I have no security and will plummet to the depths below if my hands fail me.
I manage, barely getting situated above the outcropping before my strength gives out and I let go of the zip line, dropping down to the ledge, making sure to pull the security rope along with me. It and I land in an ungraceful, jarring heap, and it’s a relief not to be fighting anymore. That relief is short-lived, however, as the force of swinging into the cliff triggers a cascade of rocks from above. I cringe against the mountain’s side until the avalanche passes, praying the ledge I’m standing on won’t crumble beneath me as well.
When the avalanche finally ceases, I’m almost too afraid to move for fear of what might happen next. The muscles in my arms and legs are weak and shaking from their exertion, and as I gaze down across the vast blackness of the mountain slope, I’m a bit in awe of the distance I’ve managed to cover. I can only just make out a tiny point of light at what I think is the zip line’s terminus; presumably it’s held by whoever pulled me back. I shudder to think of what would have happened if I hadn’t been able to jump to safety.
Of course, now I have a whole new set of problems.
In the phantom lighting, I can see the face of the mountain leading up to my village. It is jagged and irregular, filled with places to get a hand- or foothold or even use the rope for support. The distance is also a fraction of what I’ve already covered, but it’s still going to be painstaking work. I can’t do it just yet, no matter the press of time. I sit down to catch my breath, rummaging through the pack for some water and a bite to eat. As I search, I find one of the game pieces—the general—and I smile. Just before we parted, Li Wei had considered giving me the pixiu for luck. It ended up staying with him because of weight issues, but apparently he still wanted me to have some token of fortune. I squeeze the wooden disc tight in my hand, willing myself to be worthy of his regard. Then I say a prayer to all the gods I know, hoping that we all come out of this safely.
When I feel as rested as I think I’m going to get, given the conditions, I steel myself for the next part of this journey: getting back to my village. Li Wei told me a little about how we’d ascend the mountain again, and I know some of the basic principles. My destination is within my sight; it’s just a matter of getting to it. I have the rope I salvaged from the zip line, and I use it to begin the first part of the climb. I am able to throw it high and hook it around a jagged rock outcropping, locking it securely so that I can scale the cliff face.