Ziggy Malone's Arc

Chapter 3 of 8

Ziggy climbed since dawn. The scrap of paper said Peak, noon, and late meant out. But nobody told her what waited there. She had trained eleven months to fight, not to guess. Now the trail forked, and she had no idea which turn led to the qualifying phase. She stopped, sucked thin air, and swore. A dog barked below her. A stocky bulldog trotted up the rocks, a red scarf tied at his neck. Behind him came Milo, the boy from the tavern. His shoes still rubbed his heels raw. He looked worse than yesterday, dust on his face, eyes red. "You," Ziggy said. "You found your gate?" "No." Milo kicked a stone. "Sun went down. It didn't open. Old man was wrong, or I found the wrong spot." He shut his mouth hard. "Doesn't matter. What are you doing up here?" "I have to reach the summit by noon. Some test. I don't know what." She showed him the paper. "I don't even know which way." Milo studied the fork. Then he pointed to the dog. "Jermaine knows. He follows people. There's been feet going up the left path all morning. Grass is stomped down." He crouched and touched the flattened blades. "Right path's clean. Nobody went that way." Ziggy looked. He was right. The left trail showed boot marks, fresh ones, all headed up. "But that doesn't tell you the test," Milo said. "You're still gonna show up dumb." "So teach me. You watch people. What did the ones going up carry?" Milo thought. "Ropes. Chalk bags. One lady had tape on her hands, like yours. And they weren't tired. They saved their legs." He frowned. "It's a climb. Not a fight yet. They're testing who can get to the top the hard way." It clicked. The qualifying phase was the mountain itself. Ziggy taught herself to climb from videos. Her legs stayed strong in thin air. This was the one test she was built for. "You saved me," Ziggy said. "Twice now." Milo shrugged. "Whatever. It was stupid you didn't see the tracks." But his mouth twitched, almost a smile. Ziggy dropped her heavy pack. She kept only chalk, tape, and water. She took the left fork and climbed fast, hands sure on the rock, breath tight but steady. The sun crawled toward noon. Near the summit she passed slower climbers gasping on ledges. Her legs never quit. She pulled over the last lip as the sun stood high. A watcher marked her name on a list. "Made it," they said. "You climb tomorrow. Winner's bracket starts at first light." Ziggy grinned, chest heaving. She had qualified. But then she saw who leaned against the rocks, arms crossed, already rested. Jade Monroe. Tall, sharp-eyed, waiting. "You used my name," Jade said. "Now you're in my bracket. Tomorrow you pay it back the hard way."