The Lamp at the Top
Rae held the little light in both hands. It was warm, and rough as bread crust. Sunny sat beside them with her paws in her lap. Above them the stairs went up into the quiet, step after soft step. At the very top, one lamp had gone dark. "It only wants a bit of warm," Rae said. Sunny smiled her closed-eye smile. The wind came by and touched Rae's hair, and then went on somewhere else.
Rae stepped onto the first stair. It felt like damp wool under their feet, soft and sure. Sunny came behind, slow as honey. The second stair was cooler. The third had a dent in it shaped like a bear's foot, and Sunny laughed at that. Rae held the light close to their chest. The warmth went through their jumper and into their ribs. Far below, the small lamps of the kingdom blinked on, yellow as butter.
Halfway up, the stairs grew thin, and Rae stopped. The high step made their stomach feel small. "I'm a little scared," Rae said. Sunny sat down on the step just below, so the stair felt fuller. Rae looked at the light instead of the long drop. The light did not mind how long it took. "I'll go as slow as I like," Rae said. Then they lifted one foot. Then the other. The stairs held them up.
Rae's hands began to ache from holding. They passed the light to Sunny. Sunny held it against her chest, and all her fur glowed honey from the inside. They climbed like that for a while, Sunny carrying, Rae counting the steps out loud. A cloud brushed past them like a sheep going by. When Rae's hands were rested, Sunny passed the light back. It was warmer than before, and it smelled a little like bear.
A cold breath of wind came along the stairs. The light went small, like a coal. Rae curled both hands around it and blew, soft and slow. The light grew back. Sunny leaned in so her round shoulder stood between Rae and the wind. Rae could feel her breathing, in and out, in and out. The wind went off to be busy somewhere else. The stairs went up ahead, quiet as ever.
The last part was the steepest. Rae passed the light to Sunny, and Sunny passed it back, and then Rae held it in one hand and the rail in the other. The rail was cool, and slightly furry with frost. "I'll go as slow as I like," Rae said, to the stairs and to nobody. Six steps. Then four. Then one. Then the top, flat and wide and waiting for them.
The lamp stood there with its bowl open and empty. Frost lay inside it, thin as breath on a window. Rae knelt down. Their knees pressed into the cloud and made two small dips. They set the little light in the bowl and held it there until their fingers knew it would stay. Sunny put one paw on Rae's back. The frost turned to water and ran away in a bright thread.
The lamp took the light and opened it wide. Gold came out and went down the stairs, one step at a time, lighting each step they had climbed. It reached the bottom and kept going, out over the soft roofs of vapour. Rae sat back on their heels and looked. All that climbing was down there, shining. Sunny made a small pleased sound, the kind she made about soup.
Then the cloud-snow started, slow and thick and soft. It landed on Sunny's shoulders. It landed on Rae's sleeves and stayed there. Rae leaned into the warm honey fur and let their eyes close. "I'll go as slow as I like," Rae said, almost asleep. Sunny did not move at all. The snow came down and settled on the step, and on the rail, and on the quiet.