Part 1

A scattering of dust and rocks tumbled off the cliff. Tiff staggered backward, her feet scrambling for solid ground. As she grappled for a boulder, her eyes followed the rocks’ slow-motion descent until they disappeared into the valley below. Gulping a breath of mountain air, Tiff pressed her back against the cliff face, a half-empty urn clutched to her chest.

“Well, buddy,” Tiff said, “how about we finish up here and then we find our way out of this mess?” She glanced sideways at Gus, then back to the sheer drop a few feet in front of her. It plunged hundreds of feet and ended in an indistinct mess of rock and tree. Gus lolled his tongue, its pinkness glowing amid the dreariness surrounding them.

Bracing her legs, Tiff held the urn out and tilted it into the wind. Ashes floated from the container and danced on the breeze until they vanished into the mountain landscape. Gus whined softly.

A single tear carved a line through the dusty film on Tiff’s cheek. As she stared into the gray sky, a wet nose nudged her leg and her boots’ grip shifted on the uneven shelf. “Gus!” Tiff screeched as her feet slid on loose scree. The urn tumbled from her fingers and bounced off the rock ledge, somersaulted through the air, and vaulted off a rock twenty feet below. Tiff landed on her bottom and slid toward the edge. Her fingernails scraped the ground as she grasped for anything solid, and she dug her heels into the rocks. She slid to a stop inches from the precipice.

“Dammit, Gus,” Tiff said, her heart a drum as her hands and heels pressed into the rocks. “You can be such an idiot.”

Limbs shaking, Tiff pulled herself to standing and rubbed the fresh scratch marks on her wrists. Beads of red smeared across her skin before cropping up again. She peered over the edge and spotted the urn, too tiny for the contents they had held, perched on an outcropping that existed an impossible distance away.

“Come on, Gus. There’s nothing left to do here. Let’s go back up.” Tiff unfastened the leash from around her torso and clipped it into place on Gus’s collar. “Just until we’re away from this ledge.”

Tiff swung her daypack onto her shoulders; it was eerily light on her back. She looked out across the vista and searched for a trace of ash, but only heavy clouds hung in the air. Pursing her lips, she blinked back tears and turned away.

Tiff hugged the rock wall as Gus’s energy tried to get out ahead. “Don’t pull, Gus. Stay close.” The wall veered to the side and Tiff’s shoulders relaxed as she left the drop-off behind. Gus panted beside her, his dark paws picking their way over the rocks until they reached a dead end.

“Ready to go up, buddy?” Tiff freed Gus from the leash, swung it around her body, and clipped it into place with a practiced muscle memory. Like a mountain goat, Gus clambered up the rock wall. He spun around, rested his head on his paws, and looked down at Tiff.

“Yeah, yeah… You make it look so easy.” Testing one rock, then another, Tiff secured her grip around a slab and pushed off the ground. As her fingers searched for another hold, a slippery string of canine saliva dribbled onto the back of her hand. “You’re a disgusting creature, you know,” Tiff said as she pulled herself over the outcropping. She dusted off her hiking pants and looked out across the treeless expanse of rocks that could have passed for another planet. “Where to now?”

Gus stared up at her as though looking for instructions. Tiff turned in a circle, her ponytail whipping her face as she took in the vast landscape surrounding them. Ribbons of mountains stretched as far as she could see, dotted with blue-green lakes that looked like puddles. The Burnt River wound its way through the mountains, a snake with no beginning and no end. And her town, like a toy village, was nestled in the middle of it all, just below yet hours away.