Far Away And Over The Hills Novels & Stories

She was both disappointed and confused, however, when Lyda turned away from the path before they even reached the bottom of the hill, and it was not long before she urged Hazel into a full gallop. Where was Lyda taking them, Adea kept asking herself. They continued to ride deeper and deeper into the hills. With the exception of the Valley, it was the farthest away from home Adea had ever been, yet Lyda seemed to know exactly where she was going, even in the dead of night. Wherever they were headed, it was clear that Lyda had been there before.

But of course, that means we can’t scent anything coming from behind us either. We run on. By the time the sun is at its highest, we’re approaching the hills, or what I thought were just hills, because now we’re closer I can see beyond the ridges and the ground keeps climbing into a range of mountains. The second I realise what they really are, I instantly regret coming this way. Fucking mountains. But as we near, I think I can make out what looks like a pass, so hopefully, Moon Goddess help us, we won’t have to scale the whole fucking thing and can move through it instead. Most of these girls aren’t climbing a mountain.

She lift her palm and mouthed, “Just a minute.” I nod and stare at the view in front of me. I took a deep breath and feel the cold fresh air. Who knows that I will be climbing this hill again? “And I’m back,” Andy declared and stood beside me. “How relaxing.” I nod my head in agreement. The sun is not showing it’s prideful rays today and only the gray clouds covered the whole area in such protective manner. “I can’t believe we’re back here,” I whispered. From our place I can see the town from miles away. Cars are driving fast over roads and different painted roofs and rooftops are visible.

As the sun began its descent on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across the landscape, I found myself standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking a vast expanse of rolling hills. The gentle breeze whispered through the trees, carrying with it a sense of tranquility and a glimmer of hope. The events of the past had left scars, both seen and unseen, but amidst the remnants of darkness, the embers of redemption burned bright.

The drive was quiet. The hills were quiet, but not the kind of quiet that comforted. It was the sort that pressed against the ears, swallowing every trace of sound until the mind began inventing its own. The wind had long stopped, yet the grass swayed as though brushed by something unseen. Shadows pooled in the folds of the land, shifting when not watched directly. He had been there for days maybe longer. Always at a distance, always just high enough on the ridge to be outlined against the dull sky.

They rode on open carts softened with hay-stuffed woolen pillows, and the late summer heat was mitigated by a soft breeze that swept up from the sea, sowing their hair and clothes with the scents of salt and the warmth of the olive groves that lined the hills below the road. The road cut an uneven path along the high ridges of the rugged countryside and from this height Caliope could see a thin line of pale bluish green shining out in the hazy distance framed only by the pale sky and the heavy green of the rolling hills. The girl sitting across from her started crying again and was rewarded with a weepy hug from a similarly swollen and red-eyed girl. She looked away, back to the rolling hill

Not the frantic spinning of shadows on ceilings, it was a someone she could sense but not see. Not yet. Silhouetted against the blue-black of the night sky, a hill waited in the distance. It, too, stood alone, this Masada, its sloping sides and flattened summit rising from oblate fields of somber shadow. On this hill were trails, the starshine revealing narrow, winding paths emerging from inky black to carve themselves into the distant earth. A serpentine map, it crawled its way through jagged rock and dense wood like blood-soaked veins.

At least until he finally reached the top of the hill and saw what lied ahead of him. Alex took in a deep breath, but then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he scoped his surroundings. From where he stood, the hilltop was green and sparsely populated with the same trees that dotted the mountains and the valleys belows. As he looked around, however, there was nothing but a great series of mountain ranges surrounding him in all directions. As far as his eyes could see, the hills of the Adirondacks stood high and low for miles. Feeling weak in the legs, Alex dropped himself down against a tree and closed his eyes.

The country was barely populated, looking like one huge rural stretch of farmland, with just the occasional small village here and there. As they rounded a bend, the sky now alight with shades of pink, Caleb suddenly pointed. “There!” he said. “See that peak in the distance? That’s it.” Caitlin squinted, and in the distance, she could barely make it out. It looked like every other mountain peak, except that she could see, even from here, it was completely covered in small olive trees, their silver branches glistening in the last light of sun.

I keep running–sprinting–my paws overturning raw earth as I tear through the forest and back up into the mountains until I’m past the tree line and far enough from Tiscoln that I can’t feel the overwhelming pull toward her anymore. In the distance, I can just see the faint lights of Tiscoln shimmering in a shallow valley, nothing more than a muted glow in a thick crop of trees. I skid to a stop on the peak of a lower mountain, my paws sliding over late summer snow and ice.