Treasure of the World by Tara Sullivan (free ebook reader txt) 📕

my own echoes until I’m hoarse. Then, spent, I crumble to my knees. No more water for tears, no more voice for curses. Soon, there will be nothing left of me at all.

I tip my head and blow my frosty breath at the stars like smoke. Not far from my face, the dry air makes it vanish. That is our lives, I think. One quick breath toward the stars, here only an instant before this mountain sucks it away.

Since I’m slightly out of my mind, I find this fascinating, and breathe in and out in little puffs to amuse myself until death takes me.

Which is why when the first pebble hits my head, I ignore it. It’s only after the third and fourth smack into me that I focus on the ceiling instead of my breath, wondering idly if I’ll be killed by a rockslide after all, instead of lack of water.

“Oh good,” says the boy framed in the opening above me, “I was beginning to think you were dead.”

I stare up at the circle of starlight, struggling for a moment to understand how there is a boy in it. Then I reach toward him, my voice a croak.

“Help.”

The boy puts down the handful of pebbles he was using to get my attention.

“Of course,” he says. “But I have to go get some rope. Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”

With that, he’s gone; my circle of stars complete again. It all happened so quickly that I seriously wonder if it was something I imagined, but a while later, I hear voices drifting down from above me, and the end of a rope lands on the ground beside me.

I drag myself to it and loop it under my armpits, tying a clumsy knot at the front of my chest. I tug at it, hoping it will hold me. They must have been waiting for that signal, because suddenly I’m being pulled to my feet, then off them, the movements of the rope jerky. I cling to the rope, resting my cheek against it, holding my breath against the pain of it cutting into the soft skin under my arms. My feet dangle in empty space. I train my eyes on the knot, praying it will hold. Then, hands grab the material of my suit at my shoulders, and after scraping painfully against the lip of the opening, I find myself on the ground outside the mountain.

Fresh air hits my face, almost achingly cold after the heat of the mines, and the brilliance of a million stars is blinding. I heave with dehydrated sobs.

“Okay, that’s enough, come on now.” I’m surprised to hear a girl’s voice behind me. Hands replace the rope under my armpits, and I’m lifted up and braced against my rescuers.

I glance at the hole, a dark crack in the hillside beneath our feet, and see a small boy with a round face and buckteeth, probably about eight or nine, looping the rope around and around his forearm in an efficient, practiced motion.

“See?” he says to the person behind me. “I told you I found someone.”

“Help me carry her,” says the girl holding me.

The boy trots over to us, rope coil slung over his shoulder.

“Her?”

He examines me from head to toe with curiosity. I can’t imagine I’m looking very girlish at the moment, and I try not to contemplate what I must smell like after all that time in the mountain, but my braids are loose and long around my face, so I guess it’s not too much of a stretch to imagine me as a her. He makes a noise that might be agreement and comes to my other side, lifting my arm over his shoulders. He’s shorter than me, so I don’t know how much he’s really helping the girl, who’s much taller, but I guess at least he’s taking part of my weight.

“Water?” I manage to rasp.

“Sorry,” says the girl. “I didn’t bring any. When Santiago came in saying he found someone trapped in a cave, I just grabbed rope and ran. We’ll get you water when we get home. I’m Yenni, by the way.”

“Ana,” I croak, and slump against her.

She nearly drops me.

“Ana? Oh my God, really? Ana Águilar?” Yenni sounds stunned. “The girl who went to work in that mine? They say you angered the devil and he killed your whole family and only you survived, but then the devil came and stole you away in the night.”

It’s not how I would have told the story, but there’s no denying I’m that Ana. I shrug.

“Wow. You’re not dead! I can’t believe you’re not dead. You’ve been missing for two days. What happened to you . . . ? No, actually, don’t try to talk. Come on, let’s get you home.”

At first Santiago rattles on about how lucky I am that he found me—Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I go for a walk, you know? And then suddenly I hear this noise and I’m like, what’s that? So I go to where there’s this hole in the ground, and I see you! It’s a good thing you were cursing and shouting, or I would have maybe walked right by . . . —but soon the effort of keeping their footing with me slung between them takes all their breath and we scrabble over the mountain in silence.

I slide in and out of consciousness, so I’m not sure how much later it is when Santiago and Yenni arrive at a small clump of mining houses and lead me into one.

There’s a sleeping form in one of the beds.

Santiago drops his voice to a whisper.

“That’s Papi. We don’t want to wake him.”

I nod in understanding.

There’s a comforting similarity between Yenni and Santiago’s house and mine. Same mud brick and rock walls, same earth floor, same jumble of belongings piled in the corner. I see a miner’s suit and helmet laid out by the door. I wonder how long Santiago and Yenni’s father has been in the mines and which mine he works