We made our way down to the valley floor, stepping around and over little pools and rivulets, the thunder of the falls filling our ears. When we reached the largest pool, we stopped to fill our canteens and rinse our faces in the water.

“Is this it?” Zoya asked. “The Cera Huo?”

Setting Oncat aside, Harshaw dunked his head in the water. “Must be,” he said. “What’s next?”

“Up, I think,” said Mal.

Tolya eyed the slick expanse of the cliff wall. The rock was wet with mist from the falls. “We’ll have to go around. There’s no way of scaling the face.”

“In the morning,” Mal replied. “Too dangerous to climb in this terrain at night.”

Harshaw tilted his head to one side. “We might want to camp a little farther off.”

“Why?” asked Zoya. “I’m tired.”

“Oncat objects to the landscaping.”

“That tabby can sleep at the bottom of the pool for all I care,” she snapped.

Harshaw just pointed toward the tangle of dead trees crowded around the bottom of the cliff. They weren’t trees at all. They were piles of bones.

“Saints,” Zoya said, backing away. “Are those animal or human?”

Harshaw hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “I saw a very welcoming bunch of boulders back that way.”

“Let’s go there,” said Zoya. “Now.”

We hurried from the falls, picking our way through the soldier trees and up the valley walls.

“Maybe the ash is volcanic,” I said hopefully. My imagination was getting the best of me, and I was suddenly sure that I had the ancient remains of burnt men in my hair.

“Could be,” said Harshaw. “There might be volcanic activity near here. Maybe that’s why they’re called the Firefalls.”

“No,” said Tolya. “That’s why.”

I looked back over my shoulder to the valley below. In the light of the setting sun, the falls had gone molten gold. It must have been a trick of the mist or the angle, but it was as if the very water had caught fire. The sun sank lower, setting every pool alight, turning the valley into a crucible.

“Incredible,” Harshaw groaned. Mal and I exchanged a glance. We’d be lucky if he didn’t try to throw himself in.

Zoya dumped her pack on the ground and slumped down on it. “You can keep your damn scenery. All I want is a warm bed and a glass of wine.”

Tolya frowned. “This is a holy place.”

“Great,” she retorted sourly. “See if you can pray me up a dry pair of socks.”

CHAPTER 14

AT DAWN the next morning, while the others damped the fire and gnawed at pieces of hardtack, I drew on my coat and walked back a little ways to look at the falls. The mist was dense in the valley. From here, the bones at the base of the falls just looked like trees. No ghosts. No fire. It felt like a quiet place, somewhere to rest.

We were packing up the ash-covered tents when we heard it—a cry, high and piercing, echoing through the dawn. We halted, silent, waiting to see if it would sound again.