Chapter 1

One of the very first questions Ian asked himself the first night he was out there alone in the woods, in the dark, cold, afraid, and weak with hunger, was why had he even come on this journey? He asked the question because he honestly didn't even have an answer, and he thought that perhaps he should have had an answer before he even began, but he didn't.

"The ascent to Heart Rock is no easy road," his grandmother had told him. "Many young men and women have died on their way up there, never to be seen again."

"Died?" he had asked her.

"Yes, and they were never seen or heard from again. My cousin went up there, when I was about ten years old or so, and I never saw him again."

Ian swallowed hard, and his grandmother nodded affirmatively at him, taking a sip from her cup of tea.

"Sometimes never seeing someone again is a good thing though," she added.

He prompted her to clarify the remark with a cock of his eyebrows, but she simply got up and shuffled over to spill some seed into her bird's feeding dish. He gathered that perhaps her cousin was simply not a very nice guy, perhaps someone the world was better off without.

"Has anyone ever come down alive from there?" Ian asked.

"Of course, silly. If they hadn't there would be no one to tell the tale."

"Did they get their wish?"

"Of course," she said. "Everyone who ever came down from there found the one person they truly loved waiting for them with open arms."

"It sounds like a lot of hocus pocus baloney to me," Ian said.

"It is a lot of hocus pocus and baloney, looking at it from down here. So will everything be until you find the courage to seek out the truth for yourself."

"I don't believe in any of that stuff, grandmother. You know me."

"The question is, is your unbelief based on facts, or on fear that maybe there's more to life than you currently understand?"

"Why would I be afraid of something I don't understand?"

"Because you feel safest believing you already know everything there is to know."

"I do know everything there is to know. It's not a question of belief. I see things with my eyes, hear things with my ears, and feel things with my body - this is everything there is to know. Nothing else matters."

"You only feel that way because deep down inside you're afraid there might be something bigger than you. Isn't that right?"

"Bigger like what? The worst thing that can happen is death, and that's something that's easy to understand, so what's to be afraid of?"

Grandmother shook her head. "You should go up to Heart Rock, Ian. Then you'll realize that there are so many things you don't understand, and you'll find that that's perfectly okay."

That conversation with his grandmother had taken place two years ago. He thought about it a lot since then, but he had never completely grasped what she had been trying to tell him. She died a few months later, leaving him only the memory of their talk about Heart Rock, and her little yellow-grey canary Twitsie.

It was about a year after that that Twitsie had escaped from his cage and flown out his bedroom window never to be seen again. The last Ian saw of him he had been flying east, toward Heart Rock.

That was when he first began seriously considering journeying up to heart rock. Watching the pretty little bird fly away had troubled him deeply - particularly because he had been feeling guilty about neglecting the poor thing for quiet a while, leaving it for days without fresh food or water. It's a wonder the poor thing had even survived as long as it had. He was a busy guy though, with school and friends and such. Perhaps too busy to have another creature placed in his care.

Watching the little thing fly away though really shook him up. Mostly he began to wonder if the things he thought were so important really were as important as he thought they were. Then he began to miss his grandmother.

A few weeks later, on the third day of his summer vacation, at the age of fifteen, he set out for Heart Rock.

The trouble was, he didn't really have any particular girl in mind to name when he set his feet upon heart rock, and now, in the middle of his first night alone in the woods, he began to wonder if he should even bother going on.

He was stubborn and proud though. That's what had started him on this journey in the first place, and that's what had kept him going all day, through the thicket, and bugs, and twisted ankles, and skinned knees, and salty sweat pouring into his eyes as he stumbled on through the woods toward the base of Mount Sol. He wanted to get there just to prove that he could. It wasn't even about the romance. To him, having a girl fall in love with him would be more of a burden than anything. Girls were so needy, and he could barely even take care of a bird, never mind another human being.

As he curled up in the hollow of a big dark tree late that night, in the pitch black of the woods, he decided that he had probably really come out here because his grandmother had said he should - to understand what else there was to this universe beyond what he could see, hear, and feel. He owed her at least that much, having lost her little bird.

He had come a good twenty miles or so that first day. From the back fence of Emmery Park, to the base of the mountain was twenty-five miles according to the map he had checked. He had crossed the stream his grandmother had told him would be there about five minutes into the journey, and he had found the Love Stone about ten minutes later. When journeying to Heart Rock it was said that you were supposed to lay your hands on the Love Stone, stating your name, and announcing your intention to journey to Heart Rock. Then you began by simply heading east.

Ian felt really stupid doing this of course, and he actually looked around for a couple of minutes to be sure that no one was around. Then he slowly walked up and looked at the Love Stone for a long time. It was tall, almost an elongated egg-shaped thing, with a reddish-grey tint to it. Somewhere near the top there were a couple of bulges that almost looked like breasts pointed up at the sky. These were what his grandmother had told him to look for.

He sat down next to it and ate his last meal. When journeying to Heart Rock it was said that you must take not food or water with you, and you can not eat or drink until your journey is complete. This is probably what killed half the people who attempted this trek, Ian thought, but he decided to honor the rules, as silly as they seemed. If he was going to prove that he could really do this, he would really do it, without shortcuts or cheating.

He sat for a long time though after he was done eating, feeling so stupid about making the announcement at the Love Stone. Even though no one was around to see or hear him, he was still embarrassed to be talking to someone who wasn't even there. In the end he decided he had to simply swallow his pride and make the announcement, whether it had meaning for him or not.

"I guess if I'm gonna do this I might as well do it right," he said to himself. Then he boldly walked right up and laid his hand on the side of the Love Stone. "My name is Ian Carrey, and I'm going to journey up to Heart Rock."

That was all. There was no lightning or thunder, or harps playing in the background. Everything was silent except for the twitter of birds and the distant sound of the babbling stream. His voice sounded strange to him in the quiet of the woods. He had never really listened to himself speaking before, possibly because he had never spoken when there was no one else around to hear him.

"So that's what I sound like," he said. Then he left his pack with the litter from his lunch wrapped up inside it beside the Love Stone, and he had set off to the east.

There was no trail up to Mount Sol - no beaten path, and no roads. There was only the moss on the trees to remind him which way was south, and more importantly, which way was east. He wanted to climb a tree, to scan the horizon for the Mt. Sol, to be sure he was going in the right direction, but there were no suitable climbing trees, and even if there were, he figured it would take far too much time and energy climbing up and down a tree. In any case, he figured he probably wasn't supposed to know which way was the right way. This was the purpose of the "no compass" rule.

"You mustn't bring a compass or any sort of map with you when you go," his grandmother said. "You won't need them. The trail itself will guide you. You must travel blindly, following your instincts, your heart, whatever you need to follow to get there."

"That seems kind of foolish to me," Ian said. "No wonder not too many people make it."

"It is foolish, my child. But so are all things that require courage."

So he hadn't brought a compass or maps. He was simply trudging blindly eastward, hoping he arrived at the slope of Mt. Sol by nightfall.

He didn't though. The hunger hit him late in the afternoon, and by early evening his legs felt like jelly. He found he actually had to will them to keep walking after a while. It wasn't automatic anymore, and the going was very slow. Finally, as the sun was setting in the woods behind him, he found the hollowed out trunk of a great big tree and decided he would rest there. He rested a little longer than he had planned though, and soon he found himself in twilight, unable to continue without getting lost in the dark. So he decided he would simply stay inside the hollow tree trunk for the night.

He had brought a sleeping bag. His grandmother had said nothing about that. He was thankful for it too, when the cold night air hit him. He got himself completely inside it with only an opening for his face to peek out of.

There were more rules of the journey he was supposed to remember. He thought about this some more as he eased into relaxation, feeling his exhausted body sinking into the numbness of rest.

"The first thing you do when you wake up each morning, before you continue on the journey, is to make two statements about yourself. First, you must state the main reason why the person your heart desires should not, would not, or could not truly love you. You must be completely honest or the journey will be all for nothing in the end."

"What's the second thing?"

"You must state an honest reason why the person your heart desires should, would, and could truly love you with all her heart."

It didn't make sense to him then, and it didn't make much more sense to him now that he was out here. He had been thinking about it pretty much the entire evening too, hypnotized by the monotony of the journey. He didn't even have any particular person that his heart desired, so how could he know why she wouldn't love him? Different girls would say different things. Some might say he's a self-centered jerk perhaps, but other might say he's too pushy, or a bit of a know-it-all. Others, like his mother for example, might say he is just way too stubborn and proud to ever be loved, though she seemed to love him with all her heart.

In the end he couldn't think of any one reason why anyone wouldn't love him. He began to realize that there were a lot more reasons than he'd ever realized before, and it became a question of which one was the main reason.

The same was true with the opposing question too. He could think of a lot of reasons why someone might fall in love with him. He was good-looking, healthy, strong, out-going, popular - all the things girls generally looked for in a boyfriend. But then it occurred to him that these weren't really grounds for true love. He would have to look deeper. All he could think of at that point was that his mom and grandmother loved him with all their hearts, so there must be something lovable in him.

Then he leaned his head against the inside of the tree and fell fast asleep, sitting up with his knees hugged tightly to his chest.

Chapter 2

Nights are not very long in summertime. The sun set around 10:30 p.m. or so, and rose around 5 in the morning. This gave Ian a good six and a half hours of sleep. He woke up several times in the night however, feeling hungry, thirsty, and nauseas. He was feeling fairly lonely and afraid too, and this wasn't improving his situation. Most of all he wanted to be back at home in his nice warm bed, and to hell with this stupid journey. There were other challenges he could conquer in his lifetime. Why was he torturing himself, and possibly risking his life with this? Who was he doing it for?

Images of the different girls he knew floated through his mind. There were a lot of very beautiful young women in his school, any one of which he thought he could easily have as a girlfriend if it ever occurred to him to try.

There was Beth, and Jane, and Mary-Ellen - all three of them perhaps the most beautiful in town, never mind the school. They were a little too full of themselves though - far too interested in their popularity than any relationship they found themselves in from week to week.

There was Courtney, another pretty one who he'd often admired from afar, but she too was a little too snooty for his liking. She seemed like she thought she was too good for anyone else in the school.

Sabrina was cute too, but her beauty was more in her personality. She was friendly and fun and out-going, but somewhat plain-looking. She always had a few minutes to chat with him whenever he said hello to her around the school. That was nice and everything, but there had to be more to any girl he would consider his true love.

Names and faces floated through his sleep-dazed mind, and he even considered a few of his teachers. Eventually he simply fell asleep again, feeling more lonely than he ever had before, realizing that there was really nobody he could truly fall in love with in this town.

The sun rose in the morning, lighting the sky and stirring the birds into their morning songs. The forest was alive with the music of them, and Ian thought he was dreaming for a moment before he opened his eyes.

He unzipped his sleeping bag and struggled out of it. His body was aching and he felt more weak than he ever had in his life. His only thought was that if he were at home he would be enjoying a nice hearty breakfast at his mother's table right now. Why the hell was he not allowed to bring food out here, anyway?

"You must be empty, before you can be truly filled," his grandmother had told him. "You must be bare, and broken, and helpless, before the journey can be complete."

"Have you ever gone on the journey to Heart Rock, grandmother?" he asked her.

"I'm just telling you it the way I heard it," she replied. "Don't bring any food with you. You won't need it. You must travel empty and blind. Empty and blind."

Now that he was out here, laying on the cool wet earth, feeling famished with hunger, weak and all alone, he began to wonder even harder if this was all worth it in the end? He laid there for a long time, trying to decide whether he even wanted to continue this damn journey. If he went on any further he might not have the strength to get back. As it was he already figured it would take him two days to travel back the distance he had come the day before. How would he ever survive if he traveled a whole other day as well?

He was proud and stubborn though, and when he began to think about the idea of giving up, it left a sour taste in his mouth - more bitter than the hunger and weakness he felt burning in his body. He was in the best shape he probably ever would be, if he couldn't make it now, he probably never would, and that's not something he could live with. He's never failed at anything he honestly put his mind to.

So he rolled up his sleeping bag and slung his arms through the draw strings once again, as he had the day before. He got up off of his knees and looked around to be sure he knew which way was east. Then he took one step forward before stopping in his tracks.

"Oh yeah," he said. "I've got to talk about why no one will ever truly love me."

He couldn't think of anything though, and he stood there for a very long time. His mind was as tired as his body was, and even thinking was an effort of pure will power.

Then he heard the birds singing and thought of Twitsie. He recalled the moment back at home in his bedroom where he leaned out the window with both hands upon the sill, watching the little thing fly away into the wide open world. He recalled how terrible he'd felt all that day, and how he had missed his grandmother so much.

"I guess," he began, "no one will ever truly love me, because I was too busy to even take care of that little bird. I should have taken better care of it. My grandmother left it especially for me to care for when she died, but I got so busy with all my stupid stuff I didn't even take care of it. I guess it took off because it didn't feel loved by me. Maybe it went looking for grandmother. She deserves to be truly loved. She took care of him."

Then he tried to think about why he really did deserve to be loved but he couldn't think of anything. He just stood there for the longest time until he finally started crying. He was tired, sore, hungry, and lonely, missing his grandmother, and that stupid little bird.

"I'm sorry. I can't think of any reason why I should be truly loved. I'm just gonna go on anyway though, because I'm too afraid to go home now. If I don't find someone who truly loves me I may never know what it's like. I don't really want to go on. I don't even have a person my heart desires. I'm tired and sad and scared, but I can't go back either. I don't know what else to do, so I'll just keep going. I know there must be a reason why I should be truly loved. I just can't think of it right now."

So he started walking again, all by himself, with tears flowing down his cheeks and the birds filling the morning air with their songs.

The thirst hit him hard that second day. It was so bad after a while he began to feel like sucking on chunks of moss, hoping to get a little bit of moisture out of them. He kept walking though, on shaking legs, and he began to feel lighter in the head than he ever had. The lower half of him felt heavier than ever, but the top of him felt light and clear and wide awake. It was actually a nice feeling, almost euphoric.

It started to rain in the afternoon and he felt exhilarated by it. He was hot and sweating and weary, and the rain hit him from above showering him with what felt like new energy. He stood there for a while with his mouth wide open aimed up at the sky, catching rain drops in his mouth. He wasn't allowed to bring any water with him, but that didn't mean he couldn't drink what he found along the way, did it?

He decided it didn't, and a few minutes later he was drinking rain water he had scooped out of a hollow tree stump with his two trembling hands. It was the best water he had ever tasted his entire life.