*
“That was too close, damn it! If I was twenty… no thirty years younger I could have fought them off on my own!”
“Yes, master,” replied Maloch dutifully.
Kingston paused mid-rant, trying to remember if re-mechs had ever been programmed to simulate sarcasm. Shaking his head, he asked, “How are you holding up, re-me… Maloch?” Any suspicions Kingston may have held about the re-mech had evaporated during the fight. If fighting side by side on the battlefield could not confirm Maloch’s loyalty, then nothing could.
“Regretfully, the power drain from the sonic cannon was higher than my initial estimates. Power reserves will hold for approximately one hour, but I will be forced to enter sleep-mode if my reserves fail. I would recommend finding shelter before that happens.”
“Agreed. I don’t want to be caught in the open if the pack decides to come back. Let's see if we can't find somewhere safe for us to bed down.”
Choosing a direction opposite than that of the pride, Kingston motioned for Maloch to follow him, using their granted reprieve to leave the area with haste. They travelled for a time, scouting for a suitable shelter. Kingston tried to focus on the task at hand, but the pain had returned stronger than ever. Lifting up his patched, frayed shirt, he noticed that the large bruise on his chest had grown larger, and every step sent a sharp jolt of pain throughout his entire body. An unusual sensation made him stop, and he reached up to a wrinkled ear, his fingers finding a worrying trickle of blood. He knew he needed urgent medical attention, but he could not afford to waste time healing. A day of rest could mean losing Barsch and Alza forever.
As he walked his breathing grew ragged, and his vision appeared to swim and dance. Maloch had adopted a similar pace, with the only other sign of his troubled state being the slow dimming of his golden eyes. With nothing but empty desert as far as the eye could see, Kingston was close to giving up hope. At that moment, his eyes fell upon a curious sight: a small golden light moving through the air. The sun had already vanished below the horizon, and the light was in the wrong place to be the rising moon.
Cautiously, he moved towards it, ready to retreat at a moment’s notice. The light, however, did not pay him any heed, swimming in a languid manner through the cooling air. It seemed to change size and colour without rhyme or reason. For an instant it would be as big as a man, glowing with a warm blue, and a moment later a red speck barely bigger than a mote. When he drew near it suddenly darted away, but not moving far enough to be considered gone. It was like a dyr fawn, dancing away when anything threatening came close.
Playing its strange game of waiting for him before fleeing, the wisp gradually led Kingston away. He did not know if it would bring him to safety or despair, but with the land growing dark, it was the only way forward. After a half hour of following, the light suddenly stopped, growing as large as a house. A brilliant gold, it now illuminated the entire area, allowing Kingston to see the massive stone outcrop before him. It was dotted with dozens of indents, many large enough to hold both him and Maloch comfortably. They had found their sanctuary until the coming of the distant dawn.
Its task accomplished, the guiding light shrank once more, becoming a greenish-blue sphere the size of a closed fist. Without warning, it suddenly sped off in the direction of the missing sun as if eager to return home.
With their god-sent miracle gone, Kingston and Maloch went about finding a suitable cave. After having done so, they lay down, too exhausted to even think about food.
With the last of his strength, Kingston had managed to gather some kindling from the surrounding bushels. On his third try he managed to set it alight with the last spark from his solar staff. They lay in absolute silence, save for the comforting crackle of the fire. Sleep was an unavoidable event in the very near future, but Kingston found himself thinking of Barsch and Alza rather than embrace the night. He wondered where they were; if they were uninjured; if they safe and well fed.
Glancing over at his mechanical companion, he watched the light finally disappear from Maloch’s eyes.
“Good night,” he whispered, not only to Maloch, but to the two who were lost. A heartbeat later, he too left the realm of reality and began his journey into the world of dreams…
Awakening Page 81