Author: Jillian Schedneck

It was the day after the wedding and everyone else would be hungover from the moonshine, the blodaskov, and the quantum gulps. Arden hadn’t swallowed any of that. She left the others to their beds, partners holding each other’s hair back as they took turns puking into the toilet, then sipping black kaffe with their solar goggles on, too dehydrated and miserable to do anything but gaze out at the hazy, mountainous view.
Arden hadn’t come all this way to feel wretched in her room. She suited up and headed out of the resort, ignoring the looks of the local staff.
“Do you need an escort, miss?” a young man called.
“No thank you. Spire’s Cliff—is it a straight path through the trails?”
The two workers exchanged glances. “Yes, straight out the exit and into the trails; you can’t miss it. But, ma’am, it’s quite a few hours’ walk. Be careful and please don’t—” but Arden was already out the door.
By afternoon, Arden was exhausted. She stopped for a rest, unpacking moonchips, hydroade, and local blado balls that just tasted like plain pea protein. She couldn’t imagine coming all this way if she’d drunk like her sister’s friends last night. That thought brought a flicker of satisfaction—and shame. She was good at choosing the high ground and then pretending it was courage, not fear.
That was when she spotted Jenkins ahead, just beyond the ridge. He stood out for his height and bright white hair, which he’d let free here, holding his helmet.
He was surveying the landscape and suddenly looking right at her before she could duck or hide. He probably didn’t remember her. She hadn’t made a big impression last night.
“Arden?” He was jogging toward her.
“Hey,” she called. “Jenkins, right?”
He arrived in front of her barely out of breath and Arden couldn’t help but be impressed. He’d seemed among the most inebriated last night, at least before she went to bed, earlier than everyone else.
“You going to see Spirehenge as well?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Want to walk together?”
“Sure.” He offered his hand and pulled her up. She felt how tired she was. “How come you’re so energetic?”
“The right balance of quantum gulp and moonshine, I reckon.”
Arden rolled her eyes. They walked through the moon cliffs and low-gravity grasslands, their nanoboots keeping them safely on the ground.
“Did you have fun last night?” Jenkins asked.
“Of course. I’m happy for my sister.”
“But parties aren’t your thing?”
Arden reddened under the plexiglass of her helmet. “I’d never tried any of that stuff before, and I wanted to enjoy this hike.”
“All by yourself?”
“I could ask you the same.”
He laughed. “I didn’t think anyone else would be interested. Even the staff told me to be careful.”
“Me too.” She shook her head. “They think we don’t know how to walk out here.”
“They think we’re a bunch of city idiots who can’t handle their liquor.”
“I didn’t even have any.”
“Or any fun either,” he teased.
“This hike—or something like it—is my excuse. A way not to…”
“Loosen up?”
“Yep,” Arden laughed. It surprised her, that lightness. Maybe she wasn’t as contained as she liked to think.
They carried on in companionable silence, sensing they were close to Spirehenge. She kept pace with him, which pushed her, and that’s what she needed, because when they arrived and sat on a pile of soft moss, they were just in time. The moons crested—one, two, three—on top of each other between the cliffs.
Jenkins handed her something, still looking at the cliffs. “Here. I brought some quantum gulp. Try it, if you want.”
Arden hesitated. She thought of last night—the laughter, the sweaty dancing, the ease she’d watched from the sidelines like a scientist observing another species. What if she tried it and felt nothing? Or worse, what if she liked it too much?
Arden took a sip, then a few more. It was sweet and fizzy and made her feel cool on the inside and tingling on the outside. “Not bad,” she said.
“Stick with me. I’ll teach you the right balance.”
“Thanks. I think I’ll figure it out on my own.”
“You’re right,” Jenkins said. “Everyone needs to figure it out for themselves.”
The moons blurred, silver spilling into silver. Arden blinked, tasting the fizz on her tongue, unsure if it was the quantum gulp or finally letting herself feel light.