All of their moods thundered around her. Fear, worry, focus. They boomed and crashed like the dragon wings tearing through the air. If they weren't moving so fast, she'd have regretted the encouragement to be dragons rather than gliders. Each beat took them closer to safety, to stillness, to calm. Closer. Closer. Closer.
Several strands of emotion grew tenser though, a dull awareness and sharp terror building along with a tearing sensation. She lifted her head just in time to see Naatos's black dragon form fall away. AaQar had already swept beneath him.
Naatos landed easily on his brother's back, rolled, and then sat directly over his neck, shoulders straight and posture immaculate though the wind tugged at his disheveled hair. He sat there like a cat who had just fallen but wanted to pretend it was intentional. No harm to his body. Only his ego.
She let her head fall again. In between counting, she gathered her worries and felt their thoughts and presences.
When they finally landed, Naatos leaped off before AaQar returned to his state of rest. He crossed over to her at once as she moved stiffly off WroOth's back.
"Are you all right?" she asked. "You fell."
"You're crying." He scowled.
"It's just a side effect." She wiped her eyes and forced a smile. "I can't stop it. But it's normal. What about you?"
"Just tired."
Liar. Gripping his hand, she leaned against him. "I'm sorry. Do you want to sleep alone?"
"No. QueQoa has first watch. Then I take my shift. But until then."
She curled up beneath his arm. There was no sweet conversation tonight. He rubbed her head and the back of her neck; it made no physical difference this night. But his presence comforted her.
Morning came all too soon. The sky was vermilion, the red and orange hues so powerful and the clouds red as drying blood.
The mountains loomed ahead.
They were going to make it. Weren't they? She winced as she tried to look into the sky again. Even just talking screeched over her head like rusted nails now, the pressure nearly unbearable.
They jogged and walked at that brisk pace for most of the morning. Attacks came fewer and farther between. The minutes eked by.
Then, without warning, her vision turned into a brilliant streak of colors, everything blurring into a shining striped mass. The light hurt like a blade now. Rubbing did nothing except intensify the sensation. She halted, her hands flying to her eyes as she realized she couldn't see.
"Hey, hey, I know you're weary, dear heart. But you don't just stop without saying so." WroOth appeared next to her, a hazy streak of red, black, and pale skin.
"It's affecting my vision now." She ducked her head, clenching her eyes shut.
The footfalls had slowed. Everyone else was stopping too.
"What's wrong?" Naatos was already crossing over to her. He took hold of her hand and pulled it from her face.
He was even more blurred than WroOth. She could only open her eyes a crack, most of it so distorted that she couldn't make out any defining details. "I shouldn't be shocked. An aura storm brings on auras?" The laugh didn't even make it out of her mouth before she winced and shielded her face again. "It's nothing serious. Everything's just blurred."
"So you can't see?" Naatos demanded.
She pulled back. "Please don't shout."
"I'm not—" He broke off. Then, in a softer voice, he continued, "Can you focus on anything?"
"I can see enough to tell where I'm putting my feet. It's fine." She resisted the urge to scrub at her eyes again. Maybe if she relaxed her eyes it would be easier.
It wasn't.
"We're almost there," AaQar said from farther away. "Maybe another ten miles."
That was almost. She wanted to cry. She set her jaw instead. "All right. Well, I am still on my feet. Let's just—let's go."
Naatos stepped away from her. "AaQar."
They were probably going to talk. A chance to catch a few moments of rest. She just prayed no one tried to throw her over their shoulder.
"We're almost there," WroOth said. "We're going to be digging ourselves a shelter in the mountains and the rock, and everything is going to be very cool."
"And cramped," QueQoa mumbled. "It's always cramped underground."
She forced herself to keep breathing. This ridiculous headache was not going to bring her down. It was a sensation. She couldn't die from it. It was temporary. Just convincing and insistent. But she was going to make it. On her own two feet at that.
"Here." WroOth handed her her canteen. "You don't need dehydration in addition to the migraine. It only makes it worse."
* * *
Naatos returned to Amelia, conflicted and uncertain. She was trying to talk to WroOth and QueQoa, but she winced each time anyone spoke. There was an odd sheen to her eyes, a glassiness and iridescence that unnerved him. As if her eyes were turning opaque. Ocular issues were common for Neyeb in later stages of an aura storm. But it was also one of the warning signs of the Ki Valo Nakar gaining a hold. The timing could be explained, but it troubled him nonetheless.
What was clear was that she was terrified and in great pain, even if she didn't want it known.
"Can you keep going or do you need to be carried?" he asked.
"I don't need to be carried. I can keep up." She lifted her chin, her jaw clenched so tight that a vein thrummed in her neck.
Naatos cast another look around. The ground was getting hillier, the trees sparser until they reached the flat yellow grasses of the scrubland. The air was rich with scents he didn't recognize, and that alone alarmed him. Ecekom was a dangerous world for the unwary and unprepared.
"All right." He wrapped his hand over hers. "You run with me, veskaro."
Though she turned toward him, her eyes did not focus well. "You won't be able to shift," she said softly.
He leaned closer. "I can't shift anymore anyway."
She stiffened, blinking.
Probably feeling guilty.
"It was going to happen sooner or later. You might as well run with me."
She nodded slowly, that rigid determination still in her voice. "I won't slow you down."
Of course she would. She'd only managed to ever outrun him by taking sharp turns and putting obstacles in his path. Even then, it had been over short distances with a fair bit of trickery. But she didn't need to hear that. He squeezed her hand. "We'll make it."
"I'm ready." Her voice shook a little as she kept blinking, her eyes likely dry.
"Then we go." He signaled, and they resumed the pace.
The sky had darkened significantly, the deep yellow-orange now a far stronger orange, dusky and harsh. The halo around the sun pulsed with uneven light. Clouds of a darker shade expanded across the sky, building into towering thunderheads. The deep red tinge along the horizon was spreading. What should have been days was now hours.
The wind had stopped entirely now, the heat intensifying as if someone had turned on a great oven. Everything living was seeking cover, hunkering down for the first of many storms.
They weren't going to make it at this rate. The nearest point of safety was at least two miles away. Naatos called a halt, then released her hand. "It'll just be a moment."
She nodded but immediately sank to the ground, her fingers pressed hard to her temples and her palms to her eyes. She'd gone sickly pale, sweat and tears running down her face.
WroOth crouched beside her, pushing a canteen against her face. She mumbled a response but did not accept it this time.
"We don't have the time to rest," AaQar said. "Pick her up. We're going to have to risk a run."
"You'll go faster without us," Naatos said. "Get on ahead. Find shelter. We'll meet you where you set up. If you find a place in enough time, you can come back for us."
AaQar pressed his lips in a tight line. "We may have to risk a cave."
"Then we risk it and keep watch. As long as the cave isn't alive, we'll survive."
"Take two rels then. Not much will be out
. But she's in no condition to fight. She isn't even in condition to walk, let alone run."
Naatos clicked through the number of rels they had left. If they found living steel, they could create more with the substitutes available. It was better to use them now though rather than risk more fights and attacks. "Go."
QueQoa and WroOth were not fond of this plan, but no one had any alternatives that worked. Amelia for once had nothing to say. Most likely she was just focused on not collapsing.
They swapped around the supplies, Naatos taking his own opi pack but choosing to leave Amelia's. She didn't need any further burdens on her. "This should be enough until we meet again."
WroOth gave him a knowing look, concern etched in his features. "We'll come back for you as soon as we've found a place."
"Tacky." Amelia remained on the ground, her face against her knees.
"He'll be fine," WroOth said. "We'll get him into a nice cave with Proteus, and they can talk about how horrid the weather is."
With that, his brothers were off. Proteus lowed with perhaps relief that they were now moving at a pace he preferred for this weather emergency. With everyone at a full-paced run, they soon disappeared through the trees and into the low yellow grass of the scrubland surrounding the mountains.
He crouched beside Amelia. "I know you don't want me to carry you, and I know if I do it is going to make your head hurt a lot more. But if it comes down to it, I will carry you because I'd rather have you in pain than dead. And with aura storms come acid rain. If you need to rest, we can rest longer, but the longer we rest, the more likely I am going to have to carry you."
She nodded as he spoke. "I can go. Let's move."
He helped her up. For a moment, she swayed on her feet, then pressed her hand to his arm. He cupped his palm beneath her elbow. "We don't have to run yet. They'll find a place for us. We can walk."
Another nod. Her steps were slow at first but deliberate. He cast another appraising glance at the sky. That electric tang with the acid undertone confirmed the storm was building faster and faster now. Internal lightning arced in several thunderheads.
He gripped her hand tighter as he drew her along a little faster. She didn't complain, but her muscles went tighter. That vein along her neck had intensified as well, pulsing. Her face was wet from sweat and tears. At this stage, even his voice and their steps over the low crunching yellow grass probably hurt. The light as well.
For once, the silence felt strange. He'd teased her about wanting to talk. Said that the one thing they didn't need was to talk. But it did not settle well within him when the reason for her silence was because she was in agony. He couldn't even distract her with conversation.
These feelings of helplessness had grown so much more frequent. Not that he was used to them, but it was no longer so unexpected. He'd sworn he could protect her from anything, and at the time, he had thought that true. Yet this was his beloved with him now, plagued by the weather and probably only on her feet because of sheer willpower.
The miles had never felt so slow beneath him. He tugged her a little faster. She responded though a faint whimper escaped her lips. "Will you let me carry you? With the rels, I don't have to carry the spear as well. Your head doesn't have to go over my shoulder."
She shook her head, her bloodless lips pressed tight. "No. Not unless we have to."
"You understand that if we have to run, I can go much faster with you over my shoulder."
"Yes. Not now."
Stubborn little onion fish. He squeezed her hand tighter and quickened the pace a little more.
They were in a low grassland now, the broad tree-covered mountains so close. The deathly stillness had taken on an eerie quality. Nothing stirred. The heat intensified.
Several sharp blasts with a few longer ones rang out through the air, shrill to his ears, silent to Amelia's. Relief washed through him as his shoulders relaxed. "They found a cave. It isn't alive. They'll make it safe. You're almost there."
She nodded, her eyes clenching shut. "Yes. Almost."
From the sound, it was a little less than a mile. He turned his gaze up to the sky, everything tightening once again. The halo pulsing around the now-dim sun had intensified significantly, the last bits of orange fading from the sky and the clouds jagged and dark.
She stiffened. "It's almost here, isn't it?"
"You can feel it?"
"I can feel you." She licked her cracked lips, an expression of pained consternation on her face. "We should run."
"Veskaro—"
"I'll run until I can't run anymore," she said in a voice much more like the one he was used to hearing.
"And then I'll carry you," he said.
She managed a hard smile. "Only if I fall."
If indeed.
He tugged her forward. "Come on then."
The dead air around them offered no reprieve from the heat or discomfort, but they ran through the short grass toward the mountain and its promised relief. Whenever she slowed, he tugged her forward. "Is that how fast you can go?"
She either ground her teeth at him or surged ahead; regardless, she kept going. For now, that was all that mattered. So long as her feet remained steady or she conceded, he'd push her.
Her breaths grew ragged, tears poured down her cheeks, but she wasn't stopping. And he wouldn't deny her this. He pulled her to the side and around any holes or stones, and she responded, rarely losing her footing and, if she did, swiftly regaining it.
Faster now, but not fast enough.
Thunder cracked. Her steps faltered as if she'd been shot. He pulled her along. They were almost there. All was becoming shadows and darkness beneath the blood red sky. But they were nearly to the treeline.
Her breath hissed hard through her teeth as she forced herself forward. It was almost unnerving. Maybe Elonumato had been wise to put her in a Neyeb body rather than a Vawtrian. The things she might have done if she weren't limited by the constraints of a non-rapid healing, non-shifting body. The things she might still do.
He quickened his own pace.
They crossed into the shadows of the trees and beneath the welcoming shelter of the broad waxy leaves. "Nearly there, veskaro." He pulled her to the right to avoid a large boulder. He led her around a tree. They were moving steadily uphill now.
The wind picked up, harsh, howling, screeching across the stones and over the trees.
"Is it here?" Amelia asked.
"Almost." The oxygen was already thinning, the rush of the wind carrying with it a toxic medley of gases and fumes. His eyes burned. A soft pattering danced across the leaves as small pellets of hail fell.
The brushes on the ledge above them parted as WroOth appeared, his face taut with emotion. His eyes brightened at once. "Hurry!" He gestured toward them. "We're up here."
She pulled toward the sound of his voice, putting her free hand out to guard against the rocks and trees.
WroOth stooped down, seized her by the wrist, and lifted her up. Naatos followed, leaping up easily. The hail pelted down faster, most caught in the branches and leaves. A few stung the back of his neck.
Thunder boomed once more. The harsh electric scent of lightning striking masked all other scents. His own head pulsed, and his lungs ached with the vile concoction pouring through the air. WroOth choked as he pulled Amelia toward the opening.
Despite the discomfort, Naatos gasped with relief as he passed into the cave. Amelia collapsed on the ground just inside, her head pressed to the stone. WroOth crouched beside her. "Just a little farther in, all right? You made it this far."
"I just need a moment," she murmured. "Just a moment."
He started to pick her up. "Take a moment when we're farther in and you're safe."
Naatos waved him back. "She wants to walk on her own two feet. A moment won't hurt."
WroOth peered out into the storm as the wind drove more of the noxious fumes inside. "Not too long."
The wind howled and screamed as thunder crashed and lightni
ng snarled through the sky. They were in a relatively narrow passage, little more than a crack in the mountain with a relatively low ceiling. A smaller opening led deeper into the cave, a few leaves scattered across the ground.
"There's water inside. Found a whole spring in here. It's more secure than we could hope for." WroOth folded his arms as he leaned back against the wall. "The bavril's already sleeping. He won't be waking up until this storm passes." He nudged Amelia. "And your little dolmath too for that matter. QueQoa made him a nest with the bavril, and he is very happy."
Naatos smiled slightly.
Amelia gave the faintest of nods. "Good."
"Can you see any better?" WroOth asked.
"Well, it isn't streaked. But everything is black." She paused. "Even when I open my eyes."
"I'm touched you can guess my questions before I ask them."
With a weak laugh, she started to stand shakily. Naatos took hold of her arm and helped her the rest of the way. Once she was standing, she threaded her fingers through his instead of pulling away. "I really can't see though, so if someone could show me where to go."
He kissed her fingers. "It's this way."
She made her way alongside him, slower now but head just as high. In the dim light of the cave though he noted that her eyes were almost white and iridescent. "This world of yours, it's a miracle anyone endured for sixteen days."
"You're having the same experience they would. The timeline is just condensed." He didn't add that he had seen some Neyeb and Bealorn masters collapse in limp balls, pleading for darkness and silence, and he had never known a Tiablo to walk more than a few feet during one of these occurrences. There were times when a person not knowing how bad something was allowed them to handle it better.
WroOth led the way down the twisting passage into the larger open room they'd chosen for their rest. No fire had been lit, but two torches supported by stones provided enough light. The damp cool air lacked the uncomfortable toxins and gases thanks to the combination of granite and silthon. A large pile of branches lay beside the opening. As soon as they were through, QueQoa began covering the entrance with the branches. The thick furry leaves, besred ears as some called them, would also help filter the air.
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