Kena and Hope walked away from the market, leaving the golden city's noisy streets behind them.
The air was cooler now, away from the crowds, but Kena's head was still spinning.
The invisible thief who'd tried to steal her photo was long gone, and the photo itself was safe in her pocket, pressed against her side.
But her mind was a jumbled mess, like a ball of yarn all tangled up. Justice's twin, Hope's mask, the curse—she couldn't make sense of any of it.
She was tired of waiting for answers, tired of feeling lost. She wanted to know the truth, and she wanted it now.
They stopped at a quiet spot near the edge of the city. A small hill stretched out in front of them, covered in patchy grass that looked soft but prickly.
Beyond it was a huge, gray mountain, tall and rough, its top hidden in a swirl of misty clouds.
The mist moved slow, like a blanket wrapping around the peak. Kena stared at it, her eyes squinting against the sunlight.
The mountain looked old, like it had been there forever, watching the world change.
"Hey, Hope," she said, pointing at it. "What's that thing up there?"
Hope stood next to her, his mask catching the light.
"It's a whispering mountain," he said, his voice calm but serious. "It talks to people."
Kena blinked at him, her mouth open a little.
"Talks? Like, really talks? You mean like that creepy bridge we crossed a while back?"
"Yeah," he said, nodding slow. "But this one's different. It knows stuff."
She tilted her head, her curiosity waking up. "What kind of stuff does it know?"
"Secrets," Hope said, looking at the mountain. "Truths about things. About people."
Kena's stomach did a little flip when he said that. Secrets? Truths? She looked right at Hope, her mind racing with questions.
Maybe this mountain could tell her what he was hiding. Maybe it could help her figure out the curse.
"Okay then," she said, her voice firm. "Let's go up there. Maybe it'll tell me something about you, Hope."
He didn't move right away. His shoulders got stiff, and he shook his head.
"It's not safe, Kena," he said, sounding worried. "You don't know what it might say."
She rolled her eyes, already starting up the hill. "Safe is boring, Hope. Come on, don't be so slow. Let's go."
Hope let out a big sigh, like he was annoyed but knew he couldn't stop her. He followed, his boots crunching on the dry grass.
The ground got rocky as they climbed, little stones slipping under Kena's feet.
The air turned thick and heavy, like a foggy morning back home in her village. It clung to her skin, making her feel sticky.
Her boots slipped a bit on a loose rock, but she kept going, her hands grabbing at the grass to steady herself.
The mountain loomed closer, its steep sides looking bigger and scarier with every step.
Then she heard it—a whisper, soft like wind brushing through leaves.
"Kena Rae," the mountain said, her name floating in the air, clear as day.
She froze, her heart jumping in her chest. Her breath caught, and she looked at Hope.
"Did that thing just say my name, Hope? Tell me I'm not crazy," Kena said.
"Yeah, it did," he said, his voice tight. He was standing close. "Be careful, Kena. Please. This place isn't a game."
The whispers got louder after that, a bunch of voices mixing together like a crowd talking all at once.
"Cursed girl," one said, sharp and mean, cutting through the air.
"Time runs thin," another hissed, low and creepy, making her shiver.
Kena swallowed hard, her throat dry as dust. She climbed faster, her hands grabbing at rocks, her boots digging into the dirt.
This mountain knew who she was. It called her name. Maybe it knew more—maybe it knew how to break the curse, or who Hope really was.
They reached a flat spot on the mountain, a small ledge with a few scraggly bushes.
Kena stopped there, breathing hard, her chest heaving. Sweat trickled down her back, and her legs felt wobbly.
The whispers were all around them now, loud and swirling, like they were trapped in a storm of voices.
Some were soft, some were harsh, but they all felt alive, like the mountain was watching her.
"Ask," a big, deep voice boomed, so loud it made the ground shake a little.
It sounded old, older than anything Kena had ever heard, like the rocks themselves were talking.
Kena glanced at Hope, her heart pounding. He looked nervous, his hands fidgeting.
"Okay, fine," she said, wiping her sweaty palms on her pants. "I'll ask something." She pointed at Hope, her finger a little shaky. "Who's this guy right here? Tell me about him."
The mountain rumbled, like it was waking up from a long sleep.
"Masked one," it said, slow and heavy, each word sinking into Kena's bones. "He hides his face. Son of a king. Brother of a prince."
Kena's eyes went wide, and she spun to face Hope, her mouth open.
She said, "Son of a king? Brother of a prince? Hope, you're Justice's twin, aren't you? That's what it's saying!"
Hope took a step back, his shoulders hunching. He didn't say a word, just stood there, silent.
The mountain laughed then, a rough, low sound that made Kena's skin prickle, like bugs crawling over her arms.
"Truth cuts deep," the mountain said. "He runs from it, that boy does."
"Tell me more!" Kena yelled, her voice cracking as she shouted at the sky. "Is Hope the one I need? Tell me that! Can he help me?"
The whispers changed, getting softer, like they were calming down.
"Love breaks curses," one voice said, gentle as a breeze, brushing past her ear.
"Not who you think it is," another murmured, so quiet it almost faded away.
Then it went silent, the voices gone, leaving only the sound of Kena's heavy breathing.
Kena grabbed Hope's arm, her fingers digging into his sleeve. "You're the twin! Why didn't you tell me this, Hope? Why keep it secret? That's huge!"
He pulled his arm free, looking down at the ground.
"It's complicated, Kena," he said, his voice so low she had to strain to hear it.
"Complicated?" she shouted, stepping closer, her hands waving. "Hope, I'm dying here! My time's running out, and you're hiding stuff like this? Are you the one who can get me home? Just tell me!"
"I don't know," he said, shaking his head slow, like it hurt to move. "The curse—it said Justice. It always said him, not me."
"But the mountain just said love!" Kena snapped, her hands flying up in frustration. "Not Justice's name. Maybe it's you, Hope! Maybe you're my way out of this mess!"
He shook his head again, harder this time, his hands clenched.
"I can't—I just can't, Kena," he said, his voice breaking.
"Can't what?" she cut in, her voice loud and sharp, echoing off the rocks. "Can't tell me the truth? Can't take off that dumb mask and talk to me straight? What's stopping you, Hope? I'm right here!"
He froze, his hands turning into tight fists at his sides.
"Not yet," he said, soft and pleading, like he was begging her to stop. "Please, Kena, not yet."
She stared at him, her chest so tight it felt like it might burst. Her heart was racing, and her hands were shaking.
"You're scared, aren't you?" she said, her voice dropping low. "I see it now. You're scared to tell me. Fine, Hope. Be scared. But I'm not waiting forever for you to grow up and talk."
She turned away fast, storming down the mountain, her boots stomping hard on the rocks.
The whispers started again as she went—"Truth waits," one said, soft and teasing.
"Time ticks," another warned, sharp like a knife.
Kena ignored them, her ears hot with anger. Her face felt flushed, and her hands were balled up tight.
Hope caught up to her, his steps quieter now, like he was trying not to make her madder.
They got to the bottom of the hill, the golden city shining in front of them again, its tall buildings glowing in the sunlight.
Kena's heart was still pounding—not just from the climb, but from him, from Hope.
He was Justice's twin, banished, stuck behind that mask.
And maybe, just maybe, he was her real hope, the one who could break the curse and get her home.
"Why's it so hard for you, Hope?" she asked, stopping to look at him. Her voice was quieter now, but still sharp. "Why can't you just talk to me? I'm not gonna bite you."
"It's not easy, Kena," he said, his eyes hidden behind the mask. "I want to tell you. I do. But it's big. Bigger than me, bigger than us."
"Bigger than you?" she said, crossing her arms tight. "What's bigger than this mess we're in? I'm stuck here, Hope, in this weird place. I need you to help me figure it out."
"I'm trying," he said, his voice cracking a little, like he was holding back tears. "I've been trying since the day I met you."
"Then try harder!" Kena said, putting her hands on her hips. "You're Justice's twin. You're a king's son. That's what the mountain said. Why won't you just own it? Why hide?"
"Because I don't know who I am anymore," Hope said, loud for once, his voice shaking. "The mask—it's not just on my face, Kena. It's in me. I've been hiding for so long, I forgot how to stop."
Kena blinked at him, her anger fading just a bit. Her chest still felt tight, but she saw something in the way he stood—slumped, like he was carrying something heavy.
"Hiding from what?" she asked, her voice softer now. "What's got you so scared?"
"From him," Hope said, his voice dropping. "From Justice. From the king. From everything I used to be before all this."
Kena took a deep breath, letting it out slow, her hands unclenching.
"Okay," she said, trying to sound calm. "I get that it's hard. I get that you're scared. But I'm not your enemy, Hope. I'm your friend. You've been with me through all this craziness—thieves, bridges, this creepy mountain. Can't you trust me a little?"
"I do trust you," he said, looking at her finally, his mask tilting up. "More than anyone I've ever met."
"Then why not tell me everything?" she asked, stepping closer, her voice almost a whisper. "Why keep me guessing like this? It hurts, Hope."
"Because I'm scared it'll change things," Hope said, his voice small again, like a kid's. "Scared you'll look at me different, like I'm not me anymore."
"I already look at you different," Kena said, poking his chest with her finger. "You're a prince or something, Hope! That's wild! But you're still you. Still the guy who's stuck by me through all this. That's what matters."
He didn't answer right away, just stood there, his breathing loud behind the mask.
"I'll tell you soon," he said at last, nodding a little. "I promise, Kena. I will."
"Soon better mean soon," she said, glaring a bit, her hands back on her hips. "Not next week. Not when I'm half-dead from this curse. Soon, Hope. I mean it."
"I mean it too," he said, nodding again. "Just give me a little time. Please."
"Fine," Kena said, turning back toward the city, her boots kicking up dust. "But don't think I'm happy about it. I'm not."
"I know you're not," Hope said, walking beside her, his voice soft. "You're mad. I get it. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, I'm mad," she said, kicking a small rock out of her path. It skittered across the ground, bouncing away. "But I'm not mad at you. Not really. I'm mad at this whole thing—the curse, the secrets, all of it."
"Me too," he said, his voice quiet again. "Me too, Kena."
They kept walking, the golden city getting closer, its shiny buildings towering over them.
Kena's head was still spinning—Hope was Justice's twin, a prince, maybe her way home.
She didn't know how to feel about it all. She was mad, scared, hopeful, all mixed up together like a storm inside her.
But Hope was still there, right next to her, his steps matching hers. That counted for something.
Maybe it counted for everything. She didn't have all the answers yet, but she wasn't giving up. Not on him, not on herself.