The sky turned a deep shade of blue as the sun began to stir. She reached the slopes soon after and began to climb. Great weights seemed to drag behind her in the dirt, pulling her back down the other way with every step. If her body protested before, it was a full-blown riot now.
Up in the hills, some scraggly shrubs clung to patches of softer dirt or emerged triumphantly from cracks in the hard stone ground—the first of their kind she’d encountered since just after leaving the last of the ruins and the raiders behind. Some hope bubbled up within her. Where there were plants, there must also be water in some quantity. At the very least, if they could survive there, so could she.
No water presented itself, but as she neared the hill’s peak, a sound caught her ear: crunching, like teeth biting through a tough meal. Oleja nocked an arrow and tested her strength to be sure she could draw back the bow. The action drew heavy breaths from her lungs as she strained, but she managed it, calling upon the splintered bits of energy that returned in the cooler night air and after eating and drinking perhaps more than she should have from her rations. She just prayed whatever made the sound was edible. Even if it wasn’t, desperation might have another assessment.
Two ears shot up from behind a low-lying shrub, brown and coated in a thin layer of fuzz. The attached animal sat unmoving out of view. For several long minutes, neither of them moved, not even so much as a twitch. Oleja gave in first, but not in mistake. With the toe of her boot, she scuffed ever so lightly at the ground.
The jackrabbit bounded up the hill a split second later. Oleja took her shot. The rabbit fell forward into the dirt, dead.
She staggered to her kill in haste. Some dark part of her mind compelled her to scoop it up and bite into it as it was, bloody and raw, but she retained just enough sense to silence the commands. Grabbing the hind legs in her fist, she carried the animal higher up the hill to a spot of level ground. There, she gathered up scattered bits of wood and lit a fire, then set to work preparing her supper.
A few times she had watched Pahlo skin and carve animals—including the jackrabbits she felled on their second evening out—but she had never done it on her own. She drew her knife and worked at the pelt, making her moves carefully though unable to quell the haste driven by her empty stomach. In the end, she had a collection of roughly cut pieces of meat, which she skewered and set to cook on a stake over the fire. The remainder of the carcass found a new home down the slope of the hill as far as she could chuck it, which, admittedly, proved to be an embarrassingly short distance given her exhaustion.
Smoke filled the air, richly scented, making Oleja’s hunger churn more angrily in her stomach. If any moisture remained in her body, she would have surely been salivating. Instead she got a sour clamminess that emphasized all of the sand residing in every corner of her mouth.
Her thoughts drifted from an assessment of her job skinning the jackrabbit to Pahlo. The boy who had been so eager to help her that he’d been unshakeable when she most wanted to be rid of his aid, the boy who abandoned her and betrayed her, siding with Casmia instead. She wanted to be grateful that she traveled alone at last, free to move about as she pleased, taking care of her needs and then returning to her village to immortalize herself in their stories as a savior and a hero. No one had to be convinced of her actions but her. It was what she’d wanted all along. But he had been so determined to help her, telling her about how he needed to help or save someone in his lifetime. He wanted to free all of the slaves kept down by the eclipsers, but clearly he wanted Casmia’s trust and companionship more. He preferred to have weapons and ores. Would he be afforded the same safety passing through the eclipser land that Honn promised the rest of them? Likely, if he gained respect in the eyes of the eclipsers for his assistance in trying to capture the most sought-after runaway slave in the history of their kind. He earned his freedom by selling her out. Now he could do what he pleased, and perhaps one day he’d get his opportunity to save someone while travelling alongside the raiders and looting the Old World’s junk to trade. Fulfillment and prosperity found him at her expense.
Unless, of course, the deal fell apart after she escaped. What a sad twist of fate for them all, especially Pahlo. Oleja could not say she pitied him—she certainly did not. Whatever fate fell upon Pahlo and the raiders now, crushing them all under the weight of their guilt, was for good measure. Traitors, all of them—they deserved whatever they got.
Her mind snapped back to the present as a dark shape slunk through the brush beyond the light of her fire. It slunk through her peripherals as she turned, squinting into the darkness, drawing an arrow cautiously from her quiver so as not to make a sound. She watched, though the shadows didn’t move.
Then something darted towards her. A blur of brown and grey, hunkering low to the ground, leapt into the light. A coyote—smaller than any of Honn’s, which bore bulky muscle, while this one was all tendons and bones. It flicked its brown eyes up to look at her for a split second before zeroing back in on its true aim: the meat cooking over the fire. Oleja raised her bow, an awkward angle while she sat on the ground, but she knew with certainty that she had nowhere near the time she needed for the sluggish process of standing up in her current state.
Two more coyotes emerged—another the same size as the first, and a smaller one. The first crouched low to the ground as Oleja drew back her arrow. The adolescent yipped and the second of the two adults surged forwards just as Oleja released. The arrow caught the first coyote in the neck. The animal staggered and slumped to the ground, its tongue lolling free as its head struck the hard ground. Oleja pulled another arrow from her quiver, but the second of the adults grabbed the stake in its mouth and raced away, the younger one quick on its heels. They vanished before Oleja even loaded her bow.
She shouted out in rage and threw her bow to the ground. The roar of fury had not even quieted before it turned into a sob in her throat. Tears kept at bay—if any even resided within her. She hung her head in her hands. The first food she had come across in days and it was gone, ripped away from her in the jaws of a beast. Could they not just take the discarded carcass? Sliver-sized morsels of meat still clung to the bones, and though scant, the animals would not have the same aversion to eating the flesh raw. No, they had to take her portion, the first real food to cross her path in days. Damned creatures.
With defeat in her eyes, she looked to the felled coyote. It was her only option now.
She skinned it and skewered the meat just the same as she had done with the jackrabbit, though even less meat clung to this creature’s bones despite its larger size. Muscle and bone made up the entirety, and the bits of meat she managed to cut away added up to hardly more than scraps. In the end, she amassed enough for a meal or two and set it all to cook. This time, she kept her bow loaded as she sat by the fire, guarding her supper with her life.
The meat was chewy and tough, but given how little sat in her stomach—all of it from the diet of hard bread, salted meat, nuts, and vegetables that comprised her rations—even the poor-quality, meager scraps of meat satisfied her. She ate half and set aside the remainder for her breakfast—or her lunch, or whatever meal it ended up being.
The sky continued to grow lighter as dawn prepared to give way to the new day. Thoughts of sleep crept into Oleja’s mind. She had spent the night walking and needed to rest eventually. Sleeping during the heat of the day and traveling at night sounded like a suitable plan, so long as she could find a place to rest where the sun would not cook her alive while she slept. Even a spot of ample shade would suffice.
A noise down the slope of the hill caught her attention. She looked to the remainder of the coyote meat and picked up her bow from where it leaned against a rock. Nocking an arrow, she waited, watching the slope.
A figure appeared past the lip, dark and shrouded. She squinted into the darkness, bow raised, though she withheld her draw.
“Oleja?”
Her heart skittered to a stop when she heard her name. She knew th
e voice.
Pahlo stepped into the light.
Chapter Nineteen
The venom was playing tricks on her. It had to be. The real Pahlo couldn’t be standing in front of her now—he traveled with the raiders through whatever ruins they picked through that morning.
Oleja closed her eyes and shook her head, but when she looked back up, Pahlo still approached.
“Oleja, are you all right?” he asked, stooping and placing a hand on her shoulder. Even the gentle grip stung her sunburned skin. With his touch, the reality of his presence snapped into clarity in her mind. She shoved his hand away.
“What are you doing here?” She couldn’t have hidden the anger in her voice if she’d wanted to. And she didn’t.
“I… well I came to find you.”
“Exactly. Why?” The words didn’t even feel like they came from her mouth. Her tongue and lips were so dry and cracked that a numbness settled over them, cloaking them from all feeling. Words came hoarse from her lips; she certainly didn’t sound the part of a person who should be challenging another.
Pahlo contorted his face in confusion. “To help?”
Oleja struggled to get to her feet, but in her anger-blind haste and weakened state she fell back onto the rock she sat on. She didn’t make a second attempt. “I don’t need your help. I never did. I can handle this on my own—I’m doing fine! So just go back to the raiders, wherever they are, and don’t bother me. I don’t need you, or them, or anyone else either. I only need me.”
Pahlo stared at her for several long moments without speaking. It only infuriated Oleja further.
“How much of the venom is still in your system?” he asked softly.
“None! I’m fine!” she shouted, but then her voice broke as a layer of confusion enveloped her words. “How do you know about the venom?”
Pahlo shrugged. “I found the dead snake, and then after it your path got… weird. I guessed.”
Oleja hung her head. “I’m fine. I don’t need your help. Go back to Casmia.”
Slowly, Pahlo sank to the ground in front of her and settled in, sitting cross-legged. It didn’t look like he planned to go anywhere.
“I suppose it looks like a betrayal. That makes sense. But you might want to hear about what happened after you left. Can I tell you?”
Oleja didn’t have the strength to protest. “Fine.”
Pahlo nodded. “Thank you. Oh, and here you go.” He rummaged in his pack—one of the large canvas bags the raiders used to collect loot from the ruins—and pulled out two full waterskins. He handed them both to her.
She seized them in her hands, acting on pure animal instinct, and brought one to her lips. Three gulps she allowed herself, but then no more. Just because she had more water now didn’t mean there was no reason to conserve it.
“You can drink more. In fact, I think you should,” said Pahlo, looking her over. “There’s more where that came from. Not tons, but more.” He shook his pack. A distinct sloshing sound echoed inside.
“How much do you have?” she asked.
“Enough for both of us to stay hydrated for another couple days at least.” He ran a hand through his long, dark hair. “I took a lot, perhaps more than I should’ve. I wanted to play it safe. I also refilled at the pool a while back. Oh, and I brought food rations of course. And other supplies.”
Oleja mumbled a thank you. Relief took a heavy weight from her shoulders in an instant. Another ounce of energy filled her.
“I have some food left over from my supper,” she said, gesturing to the bits of coyote meat. “It’s not good, but it’s warm. It won’t keep as long as the rations, so, if you’d like it, it’s yours.” Immediately she felt foolish—she should save all of the resources she could for herself. Though until that moment she had been convinced of Pahlo’s betrayal, she felt less sure of it now. Or maybe exhaustion restrained her arguments. Until he proved her wrong, she would stick to her convictions, but she still owed him for the water—a warm meal seemed like an even trade.
Pahlo took a bite of the meat. He screwed up his face as he chewed—and chewed, and chewed, and chewed. When finally he swallowed, he smiled to Oleja, though it lacked the genuineness that he usually exhibited.
“It’s good.”
“It’s not.”
“It’s not,” Pahlo agreed with an apologetic smile. “What kind of meat is it?”
“Coyote—one from the group that stole my jackrabbit.”
“Ah.” Pahlo nodded and took another bite. “Anyway… so here’s what happened after you left,” he said through a mouthful.
Oleja settled in and listened.
“So, you turned and jumped off the tower—which was super cool, by the way. When you deployed your glider and soared away, everyone was pretty amazed and surprised. Trayde cheered, so did Kella. After everyone settled down, the excitement died off pretty quickly and everyone got serious. I think Hylde started yelling at Casmia first. A big fight broke out. None of the others knew what Casmia had planned. It turns out that night when she went off—‘she needed air’ I think was her excuse—she rode off to find Honn and struck up the deal. When we climbed the tower, we all thought we were rushing to your aid to save you, but when Casmia told us to stand down everyone got confused, thinking she had a plan or something. Well, she did, but not a good one. Afterwards, everyone was furious. I thought Trayde and Hylde might actually kill her. I don’t know how it all ended though, I left during the arguing. I slipped down the stairs and hurried back to the wagon. I almost took a horse, but I didn’t—if they belonged to Casmia, I absolutely would’ve, but they’re Trayde’s, so it seemed rude. I did take all of the spare waterskins and a bunch of food and loaded up a scavenging bag. I took a tent and the sword I’ve been using and some other stuff too. And then I went off to find you.”
Oleja watched him as he recounted the events following her abrupt departure. He showed no signs of lying. After a pause to finish off his meal, he continued.
“It was hard to find your trail at first, since you didn’t leave one for several miles while you flew. I really hoped you stuck to a fairly straight path since I only had the direction to go on. I didn’t find it until the next morning, though. Then I saw the mutant snake dead in the sand with one of your arrows beside it and I got worried. Your path turned due west and started winding around like you were fighting something, but it was just your trail in the sand as far as I could see. I found a bloody bandage too, but your trail kept going, so I took that as a good sign. I followed it to a pool, which I knew meant you had water—more good news. Then it took me through a valley where the temperatures got deathly hot. I found a spot there where it looked like you lay down in the sand, and a lot of bird tracks wound around it—vultures, I think. I worried about that too at first but there was no blood or a body or anything, and your trail kept going, so I did too. At one point I saw animal tracks that crossed yours. It was hard to stray from your path, but I decided to follow them in hopes of finding more food and perhaps another water source. I only found a carcass picked clean. That only made me more afraid that you had met a similar fate, so I hurried back. Your trail kept going, so I did too. And then I caught up with you here.”
“I see.”
Pahlo nodded enthusiastically. “I didn’t expect to catch up with you so soon—I went kind of slowly, covering up my trail and yours as I went, and in some spots, you left quite the trail. I guess it’s your leg, huh? Helped me catch up to you.” He looked down at her leg where her bandage sat on clear display, but she paid no attention to that, she was more caught up in something else he said.
“Why were you covering our trails?” she asked. “Honn’s surely dead, and I don’t think the raiders will come after us. I’m useless to them now, and it sounds like Casmia lost a lot of her backing regardless. They probably won’t care too much about the stuff you took either, it’s just food and water and a bit of supplies; it’s not like you walked off with their more valuable loot and personal belon
gings. They can replace them.”
Pahlo’s face darkened. “Honn is still alive, Oleja.”
The dark news settled down around her, enveloping her. For days she’d considered him dead. How had he managed to survive?
“How can you be sure?” asked Oleja, her voice flat, steady.
“After I came down from the tower and collected stuff from the wagon, I saw him stumble out of the stairwell back on the ground. I never saw the raiders; I don’t know what happened to them. Their arguments could’ve been raging on, giving Honn an opening to sneak past them, or he could’ve killed them, or Casmia could’ve let him go. Judging by the state of things when I left though, I doubt any of Casmia’s orders held the same authority over the group. If one of them wanted to kill Honn, they would have done so regardless of what Casmia told them to. All I know is that Honn reached the ground, and I never saw the raiders.”
Oleja groaned in frustration. Even when she could get past his armor, she couldn’t kill him. He was still out there, hunting her, doing whatever it took to drag her back to the eclipser camp and—if luck favored her—throw her back into the canyon, but more likely only her execution waited for her. Back on his sled, his wound meant nothing—it couldn’t delay him if he didn’t walk on foot. All she could hope for now was that when he finally caught up with her, his injured leg would give her just enough of an advantage that she could come up with something.
Except she bore the same disadvantage. She looked down at her own bandaged shin. Even if Honn moved slowly, so would she. Right now, she could barely pull together the strength to fire an arrow—no doubt Honn could blow her head clean off her shoulders with a single shot from his crossbow in the same time she needed just to take a step or nock an arrow.
“Well, this is grim news,” she said at last.
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